


In too deep

by Littlepurpleangel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Gang Violence, Gangsters, M/M, Mild Language, References to Drugs, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-05-06 23:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14658039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlepurpleangel/pseuds/Littlepurpleangel
Summary: AU taking place in New York in which Peter is eighteen and a Journalist, while Tony is a mob boss.Peter Parker is an up and coming investigative journalist, digging deep and putting himself in danger to find a winning story. Tony Stark is a mob boss, leading a powerful and dangerous gang plaguing New York. Peter gets too close and is soon caught in a world he never thought he would be a part of. Stuck between right and wrong, Peter finds himself in a life threatening, yet exhilarating relationship with Tony.





	1. Hopeful thoughts, dark world

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was actually inspired heavily by this lovely tumblr [post](https://thestigswritercousin.tumblr.com/post/173836411556/tony-is-a-criminal-and-all-around-bad) by The Stig's Writer Cousin. This is the first time i've written a fic with these two lovely guys, as well as the first fic i've written in quiet some time. I hope ya'll enjoy!

Peter practically jogged down the halls of the office building, offices flying past him filled with keyboards clicking, and soft, hushed, voices that were trying to hide the new ‘breaking story’ they wanted to keep to themselves. Not that he blamed them, he had his own story he was working on and it was a gold mine. So far at least. Clutching his laptop and the few files he had closer to his chest, Peter used his elbow to press the call button beside the elevator, needing to get home to prepare for his next outing. With a ding, the down arrow above the metal doors lit up and the doors opened to reveal a tall, stout man with thick peppered hair and glasses that were a touch too small for his face looking up from his phone.  
  
“Parker!!” The man stepped aside, quickly gesturing for the young man to step inside with him. “My star investigative journalist. That last story you wrote about the mob absolutely KILLED it.” Peter felt his cheeks flush at the praise from his boss, brown eyes quickly falling to the floor. “It was nothing really, just doing what I do best.” The young boy let out a soft chuckle, taking the space beside his boss, glancing at the buttons to confirm they were both headed down to the first floor.  
  
“Kid, you have a gift. Eighteen and already a star. Everyone’s dying to read more of your stories and if you keep this up, you’ll also be the youngest journalist to be on the front page.” At the mention of being on the front page, Peter’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What?? Really?!” He could feel hope and a tingle of giddiness bubble in his chest. The front cover alone was hard enough to obtain, but as an eighteen year old it was just about impossible. Now he was within reach of if and he could almost see it now.  
  
“Just keep up the good work on this mob stuff and the guy leading it. Maybe if you can get something really good, you’ll take it by the end of this month. I believe in you kid.” The doors opened and Peter almost couldn’t move. He was in such shock, things couldn’t get any better. Finally coming back to reality, he realized several of his coworkers were staring at him, waiting for him to move before they piled in. Giving them an awkward smile, he cleared his throat and quickly made his way out and straight home. 

——

Peter’s apartment wasn’t anything fancy, it wasn’t even an apartment per say. It was a large loft in a rundown building in the heart of New York. The walls were exposed brick which were mostly bare, aside from windows and a large cork board, and the floor was a cold wood. A few mismatched rugs spotted the floor here and there, a kitchen sat in the corner nearest the front door and his bed was nestled between two large windows. Against one wall was a plush couch his aunt had gifted him when he moved, a large tv across from it with a small coffee table between the two. A closet organizer was haphazardly set up in the corner nearest his bed, making a makeshift closet, the only actual room being a bathroom. It wasn’t anything special, but nothing too incredibly rundown either. It was home, it was his, and he loved it.  
  
Kicking the door shut, Peter sat everything on the island in the center of his kitchen before making sure the door was locked. Reaching into his fridge, Peter pulled out a cold energy drink, giving the few contents a thought before deciding to grab something later when he headed out. The thought of having the front page soon had him eager to work all night. Grabbing the files and laptop off the counter, he sat them on the small desk in front of his board.  
  
Running a hand through his already messy hair, Peter looked over the things pinned up. Pictures of known gang members, evidence pictures of guns, crime scenes, and drugs, newspaper clippings, online news articles, all connected with string, some even scribbled on and notes beside several of them covered the tan board. At the top, his biggest goal. A generic silhouette was pinned to the very top, clipart of a crown taped to the corner. The leader. No one knew who he was, only that his name was Tony. If Peter could figure it out, he knew he would have the front cover for sure. The only problem, he didn’t even know who to look for. The leader was incredibly smart and he kept his identity 100% hidden.  
  
Sighing, he read over a few notes before opening his laptop and starting it up. Chugging down the remaining energy drink, Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to sit still inside his loft. Laptop balanced on one arm, he opened one of the windows beside his bed before climbing out onto the fire escape. The metal clanked under his shoes, the stairs cold as he sat on them, the few remaining rays of the sunset glowing over him. He had a lead tonight for a bigger then usual deal going down and if he could just get maybe a little closer, he might be able to get the info he needed. Was it dangerous? Always. Should he call the cops? Probably. Was he still going in head first? Hell yea.  
  
Grabbing a burger and some fries on his way out, Peter was ready. Energy drinks, camera, lenses and now food. Eating on the subway, Peter kept his eyes on his reflection, messenger bag securely on his lap. A black beanie covered his messy brown locks, black sneakers, hoodie and pants making it look like he was about to break in somewhere. He kind of was, but that was just a technicality. One he chose to ignore. Since he had started to take his journalist job more seriously in the past couple months, he hadn’t exactly done fully legal things. Sneaking into restricted places, hiding out in condemned buildings, doing whatever he needed to so that he could get his story. Sure, he could always use his press badge and just get into much more simple places and do much safer stories, but where was the fun in that? A few small breaking and entering adventures brought forth a much better story. One that was much harder for someone else to steal from him.  
  
In the beginning of this all, Peter had just gotten lucky to be in the right place at the right time to get some dirt on a local mob running a drug ring and a large portion of organized crime that plagued the city. It was common knowledge that they had rats in high places, so the police weren’t putting full efforts to stop it. People were getting worried as stories of murders, break ins, and all time high overdoses took over the news. If he couldn’t stop it, Peter was going to at least expose it and everyone loved it. Except the payed off officers and the mob of course. He had to make sure to be careful and remain hidden, so he wrote under the pen name of Preston and always made sure to keep his distance. Except tonight. Tonight he was going to have to get closer and it made him nervous. 

———

Peter stepped off the subway into a rather shady part of New York. Shadier than its normal shady areas. Graffiti covered the stone walls from top to bottom. It wasn’t very hard to tell that this area was neglected with the trash and rats being more abundant than where he lived. Keeping an arm draped over his bag at his hip, Peter made his way up the steps. He was in known mob territory, so he kept his head low and made sure to blend in with nightlife around him. The deeper into the area he wandered, the more sparse people were and the harder his heart began to pound. What was he doing? He didn’t belong here. He should just turn around and go home, but he didn’t. Reaching into his bag, he looked at the folded up note he brought along. The scribbled address matched the side of the building he was slowly approaching. Taking a deep breath, the young boy took a quick glance around before trying the door. Not very surprisingly it was locked. Glancing around, he ventured into the alley, hoping to find a broken window, or at least one that was unlocked. Trying each window he passed, he was delighted that the third one was unlocked. Luck might be on his side after all.  
  
Lifting it open, Peter gave one more glance around before climbing inside. Making sure nothing fell out his bag, he took a moment before closing the window behind him and beginning up the steps. While, ideally, the first floor would give him the best seat to the show, he also knew it would be too easy and chances were he could get killed. So, he climbed up the creaky and not so reassuring steps to the fourth floor, each floor just as rundown and dirty as the previous. Climbing over trash and broken down furniture, he made his way to the lonely window at the end of the hall. Movement could be seen along the shadows of the walls of the alley. Peter had to hurry.  
  
Opening the window, he climbed out onto the fire escape, this one not being nearly as stable as the one at his apartment. Grabbing onto the rusty rails, he slowly made his way to the end, peering into the light shone from the headlights of a parked car. It was nice and very expensive looking. He had the right place. Kneeling down, Peter pulled out his camera and attached the lense, snapping picture after picture.  
Most of the guys were familiar as they searched the immediate area then stood around, eyeing the exits. Guns in each of their hands made Peter uneasy, he knew if he got unlucky and they saw him, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him. Another car pulled up, one just as nice as the other, but not quite as expensive looking. There was movement and rather nicely dressed man appeared, surrounded by several buff, and armed, bodyguards. By the way the men that he had been watching reacted, he assumed this was the other party.  
  
Taking a few more pictures, Peter pressed his knees into the rusted bars, trying to inch just a little closer. The tallest man, with short sandy hair, went to the passenger side of the first car, opening the door. A pair of slack clad legs appeared, very nice, polished shoes at the ends. The owner of the legs soon appeared and as Peter snapped a photo, his mouth went dry. Was this Tony? Had he finally found him? His heart began to pound, whether it was from nerves or just how attractive this guy actually was, Peter didn’t know.  
  
Tony wore a pristine, pressed black suit with a red undershirt showing under a black tie. Dark hair was both styled and slightly messy, as if it were on purpose. He adjusted the cuffs at his wrists as he walked towards the other guy, his mouth moving as they spoke, though Peter couldn’t hear anything aside from a couple words that managed to echo along the walls. Raising his camera back up, he began to snap more pictures, trying to catch the few words he could. Snapping one last picture, Peter froze when the picture came up on the dim screen.  
  
The older male had turned from his associate, but as the shutter had snapped, it was as if he were looking at him. Not just his direction, but it was like their eyes had actually met, even from so far away. Moments passed and everything was frozen. “Shit.” Tony's low voice echoed the single word. Suddenly movement was fast and the leaders were quickly rushed into their respective cars. Standing up, Peter shoved his camera into his bag, not bothering to put on lense caps or even dissemble it. Had he just been seen? The tall, blonde guard began his way, confirming his fears.  
  
Standing up, he quickly climbed through the window, taking a brief moment to close and lock the window behind him, as if that would provide some protection. Running as fast as he could, Peter made dash down the stairs, taking two and even three at a time. The sound of glass breaking behind him caused him to almost miss his step as he took a moment to look behind him.  
  
“Shit, shit, shit.” Peter’s hands began to tremble as another pair of footsteps joined his own. Regaining his balance and finally reaching the first floor, Peter sprinted as fast as he could. Just as the front door came into sight, a pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind. Screaming out, Peter began to struggle. “Shut up, kid. Unless you want a bullet in your brain.” The barrel of a gun pressed roughly against the back of his head. The younger male quickly froze, trembling.  
  
“No, please. Please don’t shoot me, I’m just trying to do my job.” His feet left the ground as the man lifted him up, gun still pressed against his head. “I would, but the boss wants a word with you.” With that, the heel of the gun roughly met his temple and everything went black.


	2. Deal with the devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's been caught by Tony and now faces what he's certain is death and tough decisions. Now having to decide between his life and joining Tony's side, Peter's never felt more conflicted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank all of you guys for the amazing response and support I've gotten so far!! You are all amazing and that really means a lot to me. I'm glad ya'll enjoyed my writing and I've felt really inspired to complete the next chapter already. I hope you guys enjoy!

When Peter came too, his head throbbed, a mix of dry and fresh blood making the side of his face uncomfortably sticky. It took a moment for his mind to catch up with his body, panic over taking him when he remembered what had happened. Trying to reach up as he opened his eyes, the young man found his hands tied securely behind his back, his ankles stuck to the legs of a chair. His vision swam before him, a mixture of the bright lights and the hit to his head only making it worse.  
  
“Hey, boss, the kid’s awake.” A male voice sounded somewhere around him, a couple of silhouettes moving around in his vision making it difficult to pinpoint who it was exactly. “W-where am I?” Peter hoped his voice sounded as confident as he wanted it to, though he was sure it cracked and wavered. Tugging at the ropes around his wrists, he could feel the material burning at his skin. “L-let me g-go. I-I won’t say anything. Swear.” He tugged harder as one of the silhouettes began to move closer.  
  
With his eyes finally focusing, Peter could see that he was in a basement. No windows, no doors that he could see, only a cement floor and painted walls. The moving figures around him were the men from earlier, the one moving closer none other than Tony. Peter felt his mouth go dry as he watched the older male move closer to him. Each step he took made his muscles move under the slightly tight fitting material of his suit. Stubble decorated his chin, as if he had just chosen not to shave this morning at a whim. His hair was slightly more messy than it had been previously, as if he has been messing with it.  
  
Each step Tony took was deliberate, his eyes moving over the younger boy. Hands behind his back, the man shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Each sound was too loud in the room and Peter knew he was in trouble.  
  
“P-please, sir.” Peter was practically begging now, fear gripping at his heart. The skin around his wrists began to burn from his struggling, fresh blood staining the rope.  
  
Tony simply watched him, as if he were some animal on display at a zoo. He stopped right in front of him, unbuttoning his coat. Peter shook his head, his heart racing. The sandy haired guard from earlier quickly took to his side, taking the discarded clothing. Slowly, with the light catching onto each of his expensive looking rings, Tony began to unbutton his shirt as well, loosening his tie in the process. “Can’t stain theses, now can I?”  
  
With his wrists raw and burning, Peter finally ended his struggle, watching as the man removed his shirt. Tattoos adorned Tony’s chest, as well as his upper right arm, decorating his well built body along with at least a dozen scattered scars. He could only imagine the stories behind each one.  
  
Grabbing a knife that had been hidden in the waistband of his slacks, Tony crouched down in front of the younger boy. Peter swallowed as he watched him, the blade coming up under his chin. Clenching his eyes closed, he felt his stomach lurch in fear. This was it, this was how it ended. Cold steel burned at his skin, not hard enough the break it, just enough to let him know it was there.  
  
“Kid, it's too late to say you won’t tell. You’ve been telling the whole damn city for weeks now.” Tony’s voice was low and dangerous, each word a threat.  
  
“You’ve been the one outing us? Writing those little stories for your newspaper?” There was a pause, as if he were waiting for a response, but Peter couldn’t do it. His voice had caught in his throat and he was sure if he could make himself speak, it would just be tears and begging. The blade pressed harder into his skin.  
  
“Answer me.” It wasn’t a suggestion and Peter knew it. Swallowing hard around nothing, he finally managed to speak, careful not to push against the blade.  
  
“Y-yes. I-I’ve been the one writing those articles.” With his confession hanging in the air between them, the blade quickly pushed up into the soft flesh between the bottom of his chin and his throat. Warm blood began to trickle down the pale skin as Peter cried out. Pulling as hard as he could at the ropes, his wrists began to ache more, only doing more damage than aiding in his escape.  
  
The blade was removed from his skin, Tony smirking in delight at the reactions he pulled from the younger male. Resting his forearms on his thighs, his grip on the knife loosened ever so slightly. “See, now was that so hard? Of course not.” Biting his bottom lip, Tony looked over the other boy from head to toe. “I have to admit, kid. You’re not what I was expecting. For years, I’ve managed to run this whole thing without a single hitch. No one outing us, no one catching onto us.” He paused, as if to think over his next few words. “Then some, snot nosed little kid comes along and within weeks, plans and the identity of several of my best men are in newspapers all over the fucking city. I just can’t have that though, now can I?”  
  
Standing up, he grabbed Peter’s chin hard enough to leave bruises in their wake. Peter tensed up as the strong fingers grabbed at him, a cold sweat breaking along his skin. “Now normally, I would’ve already had you killed off by now, but I think I have different plans for you. As a matter of fact, you remind me a bit of myself at your age. Headstrong, stupid, and even putting your life in danger just to climb up the ranks.” Walking around Peter, Tony waved a dismissive hand at the other men in the room, who all at once quickly left to where Peter could only assume was the staircase. When the sound of the door closing finally reached them, Tony tangled a hand none too gently into Peter’s messy locks.  
  
Yanking his head back, exposing his blood stained neck, Tony smirked as he stared at their reflection in a small, dirty mirror that had been hiding behind one of the other men. The hand with the knife slowly snaked its way around, blade slowly dragging along the newly exposed skin, bringing up goosebumps along Peter’s skin. The younger boy shuddered under the feeling, his breath hitching as his heart pounded in his ears. He hated the way he looked, bloodied, beaten, and absolutely terrified.  
  
“Kid, the way I see it, you have two choices here.” Tony’s words were sultry, yet threatening. Much like a snake attempting to entice its prey before going in for the kill. “Either you agree to end your little news articles AND-” He paused, dragging the blade down between his collar bones, stopping at the collar of his hoodie. Peter could feel his breath hitch, a shudder moving throughout him. “-join me.” That was it. The killing blow. “Or-” Suddenly, the slow and threatening traces of blade stopped, the sharp edge once again finding its home against Peter’s throat, this time pressing hard enough to draw blood. “-die.”  
  
Peter let out a soft whimper. Join him or die? That should’ve been a fairly easy choice, but both sounded much like a death sentence. Not to mention his career. It was just lifting off and now, it was coming crashing down around him, much like everything else.  
  
“Well?” Tony spoke low, the single word dragging out as he imitated it with the knife, dragging it along Peter’s skin, bringing out angry, red lines. Tears burned at the young man’s brown eyes, a slight nod being the only movement he dared to make. “I-I’ll stop” He managed to hiccup out the words, fighting back tears. “I’ll stop and join you.” Tony smirked victoriously, dropping his hand to his side and letting Peter’s head fall loose from his grip. Leaning forward, he cut each of his legs loose, though hesitated when he reached the bloody ropes around his wrists. Part of him enjoyed seeing the fear in his eyes, seeing just how easy he had control over the tied up and bloodied boy, but he knew it had to end eventually. He was still just a young, frightened thing after all.  
  
“Now, that means you listen to me. Every. Single. Word. If I say you jump, you jump. If I say crawl, you crawl. If I have to even think about questioning your loyalty, consider that the end for you. Understood?” Tony warned him harshly, the blade pressing between Peter’s bound wrists. He wasted no time nodding in agreement, each movement making the cuts to his neck ache.  
  
“Good boy.”  
  
With that, Tony cut him free and Peter immediately brought his bloodied wrists to his chest. They ached and burned and the dry blood amplified each movement as it cracked and pulled at his skin. He wanted to stand up, wash off the blood, or at the very least get out of here, but with the dangerous man still behind him and the guns on a nearby table that was now within sight, he waited for permission.  
  
“Good boy, not running away the second I cut you loose. Your stuff is upstairs, my men will show you out. I’ll be in contact soon.”  
  
Peter thought about fighting. Staying and beating the holy hell out of Tony, they were alone after all and his odds were at least okay. His fist clenched and he took a step toward him, but something made him stop. Something deep in his soul told him it was the wrong idea, told him to go home and lick his wounds. So that’s what he did. Without any other words, he pulled the hood over his head, not even caring to ask where his beanie was at. At the top of the steps, his bag was thrust into his arms and he was quickly led out the front door. Peter could feel eyes on him as he walked to the subway, each movement causing his body to ache, but no one said anything. They all knew better and for the moment, he was glad to be left alone.  
  
Once home, he made sure everything was locked. Windows, the door, he even double checked that nothing was behind the filter in his air vent.  
  
Turning on the hot water to his bathtub, he stripped down, finally daring to look at his broken reflection. Bruises stained his jawline, purple against otherwise pale skin. A darker, almost black bruise decorated his temple, blood matted to his hair and skin. His neck had two shallow cuts, scabbing and healing into what he was sure would be scars. His wrists were red and raw, blood drips dried along his hands. Clenching his jaw, he climbed into the full tub, the water burning at his skin as he began to wash off. His hands trembled, the water turning pink around him. He wanted to run. Wanted to get help, but he knew they would just kill him. So he did the only thing he could think of, clean up the mess and wait.


	3. Act the Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After days of no contact, Peter finally hears from Tony. Now he's being dressed for the part and given rules to follow. He's losing control over his life and none other then Tony has been handed the reigns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to thank absolutely every single one of you for the support!! It really does mean a lot to me and I hope I can keep producing a great story for you all. This chapter came out a bit longer then I originally planned, but I didn't want to cut it anymore then I already had. I hope you guys enjoy!

The first night was the hardest. Peter was sore, antsy, and paranoid to say the least. Every sound from his neighbors made him jump and the outside world was far too loud. He paced constantly, music blaring through his Bluetooth speakers as he tried to distract himself. What was he going to do? Every few minutes he would glance at his door, waiting for someone to break it down and just end it all. Rubbing his face, he sat down on his couch, laptop on the coffee table. There was no way he could go to work, so he quickly typed and retyped an email to his boss. Surely if he made it sound like he was onto something big ‘working from home’ would be fine. Pressing send, he sighed and leaned back.  
  
“Nothing’s gonna happen. Nothing is going to happen, Peter.” His voice was scratchy and hopeless.  
  
Curling onto the couch, he managed to doze off before waking up in a cold sweat, body trembling. His mind was plagued with nightmares. Not only ones of torture and painful deaths, but of him doing it to someone else. The thought of working for Tony, bending to his every whim, it was just as scary a thought as death was. Should he call the cops? The thought crossed his mind again as he walked over to his desk, looking over everything. Letting the gears in his exhausted mind turn, he began to try and rationalize it all. He wasn’t a criminal and like hell if he would let this turn him into one.  
  
Staring at Tony’s picture at the top, his mind finally began to clear out. Maybe this could give him an even better story. What better way to get details and names, anything he could need, then to work from the inside? He could earn Tony’s trust, to an extent of course, and use all the details to go to someone higher than the local police. Get the whole gang locked up for life. It was risky, but he couldn’t get any closer then this. Rubbing his tired eyes, Peter quickly took his camera into the bathroom, making sure to take photos of each of his injuries. Time to work.  
  
Printing them out, then writing out how each wound was inflicted, Peter could feel his mind begin to ease. Gathering together some loose paper, he wrote out the details he could remember, the deal, the other party, the basement and bit of house he saw, and every bit about Tony. This could get him more than just the front cover. He was thinking more along the lines of a multi page spread. The thought fueled him more.  
  
Digging out a large, old tapestry of the night sky, Peter hung it over the board, making sure it would be hidden enough so that any visitor wouldn’t think anything of it. Finally laying down in his bed, the young man felt himself relax into the plush mattress. This wasn’t a bad situation, just a good investigation. Right? It may have sounded absolutely insane, but it was worth a good try at least. At this point he didn’t have a way out that didn’t end with his demise, so he might as well try and turn the tides into his favor.  
  
At some point he managed to fall asleep, curling into the multiple pillows that surrounded him.  
  
The next three or four days, he couldn’t remember how many exactly as they blurred together, he locked himself up at home. Calling aunt May daily, Peter made sure she was okay, worried that they would go after her instead, but each time she was just fine. He tried his best to distract himself in the meantime: reading, writing, playing video games, movies, tv, anything really. He just needed this done and over with.  
  
It was about eight in the morning when his doorbell rang, nearly making him jump out his skin. Freezing in the middle of his loft, Peter stared apprehensively at the door. Nothing happened. Slowly creeping to it, he pressed a careful eye to the peephole, no one in sight. No shadow, no movement. Very slowly and very carefully, he opened the door, only to find that there really wasn’t anyone there. Just a large envelope taped to the door. Glancing around, he grabbed it and quickly retreated back, locking the door.  
  
For several minutes, Peter just stared at the paper in his hands. He was curious, but scared. While it wasn’t any thicker than a basic letter, he was worried if he opened it that it just might explode.  
  
Turning it over in his hands, he saw the only two things on it. His name in a very fancy script on the front and a red wax seal on the back with a large ‘S’ embedded into it. It took a large dose of courage before he finally brought himself to open it, breaking through the seal. To his surprise, it was just a letter. 

Peter,  
You have done wonderful these past few days. Staying home, not making any stupid decisions in the meantime. You’re a smart kid. You did well joining me. Now that I’ve made sure you weren’t going to run and tell, I’ll be there around seven this evening. We’ll go to dinner and talk. We have some very important matters to discuss. In the meantime, I need you to be a good boy and quit that job of yours before I arrive. Don’t try to lie about it either. To me at least, I don’t care what you tell that boss of yours. Just remember, we have eyes and ears everywhere. Your aunt is doing well as you know, but that can always change. Just a little extra incentive. Until tonight.  
T. Stark

The writing was neat and each word was well thought out. Peter stared at it, reading it twice before setting it on the kitchen counter. Shaking his head, his hands trembled. Not May. They couldn’t hurt her. They wouldn’t.  
  
They could. They would.  
  
Looking around his loft, he no longer felt safe in his own space. They could’ve found out where he lived easy enough, but May. They had to be listening to his calls. Had to have his background at their disposal. That made things much more difficult. He had been walking on eggshells, now he was running across light bulbs. One wrong step and everything would shatter, taking him down with them in a bloody mess.  
  
Peter paced around his loft, trying to think of what to do. He couldn’t quit his job, not when he was onto something so big. Maybe his boss would understand when he showed up with the story. Surely that would prove he didn’t mean it. That he just did it for his life. Right? But no job meant no money which meant no rent which meant no home. Rubbing his temples, Peter sighed. He couldn’t risk May though. His safety he didn’t care about, that went straight out the door days ago, but May’s. He would do anything to protect her.  
  
Finally grabbing his cell phone, Peter brought up the number for his boss.  
  
“Parker! How’s that story going? Front page worthy I hope.”  
  
Peter stayed silent for a few moments. “Yea. Uh- about that.”  
  
“I’m sure it’s great, kid. Nothing to worry about!”  
  
His reassuring tone made it harder for Peter to say the words. “It’s not that. It’s just- look. Something's come up and I have to quit. I’m sorry.” He could hear his boss, well previous boss, yelling something in protest, but he held the phone away from his ear. Tapping the end call button, Peter quickly sat his phone down on the counter he had been leaning on. What had he just done?  
  
Seven couldn’t come any faster. After the phone call, Peter couldn’t relax. Somehow, knowing he had just lost his only source of income stressed him out more than knowing Tony was coming over later.  
  
Showering and straightening up, Peter made sure all his work was hidden. The last thing he needed was his intentions being discovered. When the doorbell rang at seven on the dot, he promptly opened the door. Tony stood there, hands in the pockets of yet another expensive looking suit. Behind him was, not surprisingly, the same sandy haired guard as before. In his hands was a bag from some obscure, expensive shop, the name neatly placed on the front. Taking the bag from he man, Tony waved him off.  
  
“Well hello stranger.” Not waiting for an invite, he pushed past the younger boy, looking around. “I have to admit, not too bad. Especially being so young. Not great, but could be worse.” Turning on a heel, he held out the clothing bag to Peter. “Go change.”  
  
Peter had just gotten the door closed and locked when Tony was already telling him to change. Looking up at the older man, he could feel his stomach tighten. Just a few days ago he was holding him hostage and hurting him. Now he was offering him some expensive clothing and dinner. Slowly and cautiously, he reached for the bag. Do it for the story. He repeated the sentence over and over in his mind as if it would make everything better.  
  
“Just take it for fucks sake. It’s not going to attack you, I just can’t have you going to dinner with me looking like-” Tony’s sentence trailed off as his hand gestured to Peter’s clothing. The young man simply nodded, before rushing off to the bathroom to change. No need to try and piss of Tony in even the slightest. Hanging the bag on the shower curtain rod, he folded it up to reveal an expensive suit underneath. Running pale fingers along the dark material, he could feel just how expensive it was. The material was dark as night, a blue undershirt and black tie peeking out. Swallowing hard, he changed into it as carefully as he could, afraid he might damage the expensive clothing. Adjusting the tie, Peter stared at his reflection. He almost couldn’t recognize himself in such nice clothing. If it weren’t for the still prominent bruises along his jaw, he would’ve sworn he was some important CEO type guy.  
  
At the sound of Tony clearing his throat on the other side of the door, Peter finally stepped out. Tony didn’t say anything at first, simply looking the younger boy over as he nodded in approval. “I have to admit, you can definitely look the part with the right clothing.” Stepping forward toward him, Peter flinched at first, but managed to stay still. Calloused fingers brushed over his bruised jaw, a menacing smirk tugging at Tony’s lips. “Even with the bruises.” Peter shuddered under the touch, fighting every bit of his mind telling him to run.  
  
“Thank you sir.” His voice was soft and timid as he shrunk in the presence of someone so powerful and dangerous.  
  
“Sir?” A dark brow raised on Tony’s face. “I like that.” And with that, he turned and made is way to the door, Peter on his heels. 

——

The car was just as nice as he expected, something expensive and flashy. They sat in the backseat, the same guard as always taking the wheel. It wasn’t hard to realize he must be Tony’s personal bodyguard. Dinner was at a restaurant Peter would never even dream of being able to get into. A list clientele filled their reservation sheets, he almost couldn’t believe it when Tony walked in and didn’t even have to wait. The hostess greeted him with a prompt “Same table as always, Mr. Stark,” before grabbing two menus and guiding them to a secluded table towards the back of a dimly lit dining area.  
  
Tony ordered himself an expensive glass of wine and Peter a non alcoholic sangria. Something about it making him look classy. The menu was a jumble of no pictures and a lot of words that Peter couldn’t pronounce. He could feel a small spike of anxiety, hoping he didn’t embarrass Tony, which in turn would be bad for him. Very bad. He was a proud man and he could imagine that presence was everything. Finding something simple enough for him to know, he ordered a nice pasta dinner before the waitress disappeared once again.  
  
Most of dinner was listening to Tony speak, giving some advice as to how to act the part.  
  
"Never hesitate. ALWAYS look confident and if in public always make sure to be dressed nicely. My word is law. Anything I say, goes. If you have a problem with it, you have a problem with me. Normally that ends in death, so let's not try that route. Don't ask too many questions and only speak when directly spoken to. Especially if you're around people from other affiliates. Never be afraid to take down a threat and always have the gangs best interest in mind. But, kid, most important: make sure to always make it known you belong to me. Tony Stark. That little bit of knowledge will bring you to a whole new world. New opportunities in new places." Tony's voice was serious as he listed off each 'rule'.  
  
The thought of belonging to some dangerous mob boss made Peter uncomfortable and terrified. He wasn’t just an object the be owned. There was no telling what would happen or what he would be forced to do. Yet, somewhere deep down was a feeling he would never own up to. It felt nice to belong to something bigger and more powerful then he was. Growing up just some kid in New York living with his aunt, Peter wasn’t ever really anyone. Just another kid, but this. This gave him something to be. Burying the feeling even deeper, he nodded as he made mental notes of the advice.  
  
Tony took a large bite of some food Peter had never seen before, pointing his fork at him before speaking. “There’s a lot of potential in you, kid. You’re headstrong and from the looks of it, you’ve had very little growing up. Now is your chance to be someone. All it takes is you to keep doing what you’re doing. Follow me and I’ll make you into someone.” He paused, taking a drink of wine. Peter decided to take this moment to bring up something that had been on his mind.

“Uh- Mr. Stark, I don’t mean to be rude, but I do have a question.” When Tony didn’t say anything, Peter took that as a good sign. Hopefully. “I quit my job like you requested, but my rent. I-I still have rent and bills.” Bringing it up, the young man couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. This was his problem, not Tony’s. He probably didn’t even care.  
  
Setting the wine glass down, the older man chuckled. “Kid, that’s already been taken care of. You’re with me. Money is no longer an issue.” Peter looked at him, a mixture of surprise and absolute confusion. Why would he help him? Just days ago Tony was threatening to kill him and now, now he was paying his bills and rent.  
  
“Oh. Uh well, thanks.” What was he getting himself into? His loyalty, his job, May’s safety, and now this? All Peter could feel was a debt he was sure would get him killed. Without even realizing it, he was practically handing Tony complete control over his life. This was going to be the death of him.  
  
The rest of dinner wasn’t very eventful, mostly small talk with a few personal questions sprinkled in, almost all from Tony’s end. Peter didn’t dare tread any further into this unknown territory. Though, he did have to admit as time passed, he felt himself a bit more at ease. The more time he spent with the older man not threatening his life was a bit comforting. At least he was doing something right. 

—-

Tony took him back home after dinner, dropping him off at the front door to his building. Reaching for the door handle in the car, Peter was ready to go up to his loft and try and sort everything out. While it had just been a nice dinner, he was still given a lot of information. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, almost causing him to flinch. “Yes, sir?” Peter’s voice was tired, but still attentive.  
  
“I’ll be here tomorrow to pick you up at eight in the morning. Be ready and get rest. Now begins the real work.” Tony’s stern face made his stomach tighten. Real work? What was that supposed to mean? Instead of asking, he simply nodded.  
  
“See you in the morning.” And with that, he quickly stepped out the car and made a direct beeline to his loft. He took note that there were several designer store bags of clothes on his bed, but he didn’t bother questioning it. Tony probably had one of his men drop it off while they were eating. The fact they had access to his home made him uneasy, but at this point all he could do was take it in stride. Taking off the suit, Peter sat at his desk in just boxers, beginning to make notes of everything. From where dinner was to each of Tony’s words that he could recall that was important. It was well into the late night hours when he finally passed out, hoping tomorrow wasn’t as ominous as it had sounded.


	4. Day one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony starts showing Peter his way around and teaching him the ropes. Unfortunately things aren’t easy as they seem and things get really dark really fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I want to thank all of you for being absolutely amazing!! Every one of you is so supportive and it keeps me inspired. I hope you all enjoy!

Peter sat uncomfortable and tired in the backseat of Tony’s flashy car. His alarm had gone off far too soon and the blindfold that had been secured to his eyes only made him want to nod off. At first Peter had whined and complained about the blindfold, but a few reminders of the ‘rules’ had pushed him back in line. He couldn’t be too upset though, he hadn’t exactly earned Tony’s full trust yet. Tony had made a few comments about how ‘thrown together’ Peter had looked when he ran down to the car, tie untied around his neck. A few too many snoozes and he had no choice. He just threw some clothes on from the bags and ran downstairs when he received the ‘here’ text from an unknown number. Saving it under Tony, he got ready and headed down. Now he could only imagine how it all looked. Him disheveled and blindfolded, sitting in the backseat of a fancy car with Tony Stark beside him.  
  
Tony glanced over at the blindfolded boy next to him, having to admire how submissive he could be. As they had argued back and forth about the blindfold, Peter kept calling him ‘sir’ and ‘Mr. Stark’, now seeing him blindfolded and doing as he said, the older man had to admit it gave him dirty thoughts. Shoving them aside, he knew this was neither the time nor the place. Another day, another time.  
  
As they pulled up to the gated abandoned looking building, Tony looked over at Peter once again. “Once you’ve proved yourself to me a bit more, I’ll let you see where we’re going. For now, you’re about to witness where the magic happens. Where we make our product and most of our deals.” A guard nodded at Tony’s bodyguard, opening the gate and allowing them in. Once up the driveway, he reached over and untied the silk material from behind Peter’s head, letting it fall onto his lap. “It may not look nice, but that’s what we need. If it gives no reason to be looked into, people leave it alone.”  
  
Rubbing his eyes as the bright sunlight suddenly came into sight, Peter took a moment to adjust before looking around. He could see a man with a sniper rifle standing on the roof. Two guards moved along the grounds, staying close to one another, no one caring to pay notice to Tony’s presence. A guard Peter hadn’t seen at the main doors stepped forward, opening Tony’s door for him. “Come.” He spoke the single word, stepping out of the car and adjusted his jacket as he did. Hesitating slightly, Peter scooted across the bench seat, sliding out behind the other man. Fixing his jacket and tie, he looked up at the large warehouse. It was old, but recent repairs were apparent on the updated cooling systems shining along the roof as well as the new, unbusted windows.  
  
Tony didn’t say anything, he simply walked inside as Peter followed at his heels. The entrance was a sitting room, nicely decorated with a guard behind a large desk, several camera monitors behind him. Tony nodded at the man before leading Peter further into the building. It became a twist and turn of multiple halls and metal staircases. Renovated just enough to make it confusing to get inside, but not take away the fact it was a warehouse.  
  
“This is where we work. Our drugs are produced and packaged here. At least the supply for the main city. We have a few more elsewhere, but those are in capable hands.” Tony slowed his walk as they made their way across a catwalk, high above the ground. Several men moved around, each with their own task at hand. Large stacks of white bricks, bottles of some unknown liquid and bottles of pills each took their own corner of the ground, packaged with names scribbled on papers of what he could assume would be the distributor. 

It was actually quite amazing to see it all in the works. Not that he agreed, drugs were terrible and their drugs were causing more issues than anything else. But the fact so many people could work so smoothly under pressure, keeping things up to quality and making sure each batch was perfect. It was interesting to say the least. Even if it was a bad thing, Peter also had to admit it was also employing all the people down below. He didn’t know any of their stories, but in the end everyone needed money. In the end, this was his own income. The thought of something this illegal buying him his clothes and paying his bills made him uneasy. If it wasn’t for the good dirt he was getting, he didn’t think he could ever be a part of this.  
  
Tony had continued talking, Peter trying to focus on his words. He explained how the floor was divided in three, each drug getting its own dedicated employees. The older man had really thought it all out, down to the smallest details. After several more moments, he gestured for the younger male to follow him.  
  
“This is also the building we conduct most business in. Particularly with new customers. They like to see the magic happen. Helps them feel at ease. Of course, they’re blindfolded just as you are and they don’t get to see our exact methods. Just a quick glance at the workfloor and a small sample and most are sold.” Pride laced each of Tony’s words as he led Peter down some stairs and to a set of heavy wooden doors. Pushing them open, a large meeting area opened up in front of them.  
  
A large, expensive table took up the center of the room, a large calligraphy S in the center. Surrounding the table were plush, black chairs, each looking comfy and inviting. At the end of the table furthest from the door was an even larger, red armchair, embroidered with a gold trim along the edges. It wasn’t hard to tell that was Tony’s seat. A small bar was situated behind the seat, expensive looking bottles taking up most of the space.  
  
Running a hand along the nicely finished wood, Peter looked up at Tony. “It’s nice. Is this where you conduct business?” The older male nodded.  
  
“Most of it at least. Keep it up and you’ll be at my side for the next deal we have coming up a few weeks from now. Just gotta work out a few more details is all.” Tony plopped down in his large armchair, the scene demanding attention. The dark suit clashed again the bright fabric, Peter unable to take his eyes away. Seeing the man in such a position of power was captivating. Almost inspiring. Demanding your attention from the way he sat alone, much less how Peter could imagine he spoke. He wanted that.  
  
  
Shoving the thoughts aside, the young man tried to shake the dark feelings. This isn’t what he wanted. He wanted all of this gone and for his name to be all over the city papers. That was what he wanted and that alone. Not this. Not an empire, not infamy, not drug money. None of it.  
  
Tony leaned back, gesturing Peter to sit. Making his way closer to the other man, he sank down into one of the black chairs, relaxing into it. “You have a lot to learn kid. This is just the tip of the iceberg. For you to be able to be as powerful as I am, you have to learn the business from the ground up. You’re going to learn from most basic sales on the streets, all the way up to what I do while in this room.” His words were full of confidence as if he already had a whole plan set out in front of him. Leaning forward, he placed his hands flat on the table.  
  
“But first, you must learn to protect yourself. If you can’t do that, you’ll be dead before you even make your first sale. Have you ever shot a gun?” Peter could feel his cheeks redden in embarrassment as he shook his head. Here he was, sitting in front of one of the most dangerous men around, completely inexperienced in self defense. “How about fight? Ever been in a fight?” Once again, Peter shook his head. “No.” The word was soft, almost a whisper. What was he doing here? He was going to get himself killed.  
  
Tony let out a soft laugh. “We’re going to change that, kid. Let me finish showing you around then we’ll get to work. First sparring, then when I trust you enough, I’ll place a gun in your hands.” Standing up, Tony began to lead Peter around once again. There wasn’t much else to see aside from three offices with paperwork. Each office was dedicated to one of the three drugs and the larger orders that had been placed. If they had paid or not, who it was, how much, and when. Tony explained how even if paper trails were bad, they could easily be destroyed as long as you kept few as possible. This was necessity, if they didn’t keep track of what was needed, they would have upset clientele.  
  
“And last but not least-“ Tony pushed open a back door, opening up to a parking lot with several vehicles of varying sizes. Large trucks with company names and logos on the side, smaller cars that easily blended in, each with its own purpose. “-the delivery system. We make our vehicles blend in as much as possible, that way our deliveries move as smoothly as possible.” Stepping out to the center of the asphalt, Peter followed Tony closely as he looked around. It was smart. This whole system, just everything. It was all thought out.  
  
“You really do run a good system here.” A hint of admiration laced his voice as he looked up at the older man.  
  
“Oh trust me, I know.” Tony let out a soft chuckle as he crossed his arms. “I only get the best of the best and if I can’t figure something out, they help. We make sure everyone’s ready for any sort of scenario. But you, I have my work cut out with you.”  
  
Just as Peter was about to ask what he meant, a pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind, lifting his feet off the ground. “What the fuck?!” He began to struggle against the strong hold, kicking his legs and wiggling, all to no avail. Tony shook his head. “Like I said, I have to make sure all my men are prepared for any scenario. If someone grabs you from behind, don’t just wiggle. Use your defensive strategies.”  
  
Reaching out, he easily caught one of Peter’s legs. “Kick weak spots.” Slowly bringing his leg down, he brought the heel of his shoe into the man’s shin. “Shins will make them falter.” He brought his foot up, bending his leg at the knee until his heel was even with his captors knee. “Knee. It’ll hurt and if you can do it hard enough, they might even fall.” Letting his leg drop, he grabbed Peter’s hand. Strong fingers forced his into a fist, moving it down into the man’s stomach. “Stomach, it can knock the air out of them. Of course, also crotch, but I’m not touching that area.”  
  
Walking around him, Tony stood in front of Peter, staring into his eyes. Chewing the inside of his bottom lip, the younger boy couldn’t look away. Reaching up, Tony suddenly tangled his fingers into his locks, pushing his head back gently. “Headbutt. Break the nose, get free. See? You just have to stay calm and think things through. Control your emotions, kid.” Finally letting him go, the older man paused for a moment. “But if you can’t get free, well then you just have to learn to deal with pain.”  
  
Peter didn’t like the sound of that. “Well, I’ll learn.” He tried to sound confident. “Nothing anyone can do to me will get any information from my lips.” He could feel Tony’s eyes glance at his lips at the mention of them, but only briefly. It was like something sparked in his mind.  
  
“Then we’ll see about that.” Before Peter could speak again, a strong fist came in contact with the side of his head, sending him into an endless darkness. 

—-

When Peter came to, his head ached and the familiar feeling of rope against his wrists brought dread through his heart. “Not again…” he opened his eyes, finding himself in the basement of the factory. Looking down, he was confused to see that his shirt and coat were gone, discarded somewhere, leaving him shirtless and bound. Stacks of pallets hid him from sight, though he was sure it wouldn’t matter, no one would’ve said or done anything. Tony looked up, also shirtless, from where he stood, putting his phone back into his pocket.

“Well hello there. In a bit of a predicament again aren’t you?” A smirk tugged at his lips that made Peter's heart pound.  
  
“So, I already know how this goes, but one question. Why did you take my shirt?” Peter gave the ropes a tug, finding them just as secure as the first time. Surely this had to be some cruel joke, Tony already trusted him. At least enough to not threaten his life anymore.  
  
“Kid, those clothes are expensive. I’m not about to get blood on them.” The older man shrugged nonchalantly as he grabbed his knife from the waist of his pants. Memories of the fateful night sent Peter into a panic. Tugging harder at the ropes, he could feel his wrists beginning to rip themselves open. “No, no. Mr. Stark, I thought we were all good!” Each step that Tony took closer, Peter could feel the urgency to get away rise. A look of amusement twinkled in his brown eyes, his steps pausing as the younger man managed to tip hair chair backwards with all the wiggling and panicking.  
  
“Kid, lesson one. Again. Control. Your. Emotions.” Walking around the boy as he groaned, the back of his head aching, he stared down at him in amusement, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “While you being on the floor is a great thing to see, it’s not going to get you anywhere. Unless your legs aren’t bound, trying to get free without knowing you can is just going to tire and hurt you.”  
  
Peter opened his mouth to question the first part of Tony’s speech, but the sudden tilting of the world going back to right side up distracted him. The chair legs landed with a thump and once again he was staring at Tony.  
  
Crouching down, he shook his head. “You’re my right hand now. If anything goes wrong, if anything happens, they might try to take you. They know you’ll be leverage against me, as well as a pool of knowledge for our secrets.” Lifting the knife, he slowly began to drag it along Peter’s exposed torso, admiring the red lines that clashed against the otherwise pale and flawless skin. “If you show them you’re scared, they’re just going to have a field day with you. Stay calm and take the pain. Know how to keep your mouth shut, no matter what they do. My competitors are smart, they know that a dead body is worthless to me, so chances are they won’t actually kill you. Hurt you, yes, but this is the reality of it all.”  
  
Peter watched Tony’s eyes as he spoke, taking deep breaths to calm himself. What was he doing? At this point, he wasn’t sure any story was worth this. He was literally risking being kidnapped, tortured, and potentially murdered. The amusement in Tony’s eyes scared him just as much as all the possibilities. The way he seemed to enjoy watching him squirm under the knife. But what scared him the most was himself. The fact that he was going with it. The fact he forced himself to sit still and calm, taking deep breaths as he focused on the cold steel against his skin. The fact that goosebumps and shivers followed behind each curve and line left in his skin. Now he was diving into deep waters and he was in over his head, but there was no lifeguard to save him and all he could do was tread water until he could swim away from the deep end. He was in way too deep. 

The sudden feeling of the blade cutting into his side pulled a cry from his lips, blood dripping down his body. Tony waited, watching him before mirroring it on the opposite side of his body, eliciting another cry of pain. “Scream. Wince. Curse. Spit. Stay silent. Whatever you do, don’t cry. If they see you cry, they know they’re winning. They’ll know you’re about to break. Never let them know that.” Dragging the knife up towards his collarbones, he pressed the tip between them. “Be prepared for this. What I do, they’ll do worse. They’ll do deeper. I’m conditioning you. They’ll be torturing you.”  
  
Peter took shaky breaths, biting down on his bottom lip, staring at Tony with a mix of contempt and fear. What kind of man bound his workers and hurt them? Did he do this to everyone? Or did he just get a sick enjoyment from watching Peter? “Why? Why all of this? If I already know what to expect, why put me through it?” His voice was slightly hoarse from his cries as he stared at the other man.  
  
Tony stood up, removing the blade from his skin. “Knowing what to expect and actually going through it are two different things. I can tell you, oh hey, here’s how you fix this car, but when you get to it, without the proper training or experience, you’ll probably just make things worse. That’s what this is. Experience. Proper training. If anyone gets their hands on you, you need to be trained like a soldier. Prepared to go through hell until I can get to you.”  
  
Without warning, Tony suddenly pulled a gun hidden near his lower back, pointing it directly at Peter. Panic shot through him, tears forming in his eyes. Shaking his head, he began to struggle again. “No, no. I’m sorry I questioned you.” His thoughts began to race as he waited to hear the gun go off. To his surprise, he instead heard laughter as the gun dropped down to Tony’s side. “This is what I’m talking about. You already knew a gun will be pointed at you at some point and you can tell yourself you’re ready, but when it happens, it’s a different story. This is why I’m preparing you. I want to make sure when you’re out there with me, you’re prepared.”  
  
This went on for longer then Peter could try and count. An hour? Maybe longer? Tony would leave him alone, threaten him with the knife, mark him with it, pull his gun on him, and even at some point gave him a solid hit to the mouth. He continually told himself it would be worth it, but the aching cuts along his torso and bleeding lip said otherwise. He just wanted this to be done with. When he finally didn’t wince at the sight of the gun, Tony cut him free.  
  
“You did good, kid. I’m sorry I have to do this to you, but I don’t want to shove you out there cold turkey and hope for the best.” A sincerity he hadn’t heard before laced the man’s words, as if he genuinely kind of felt bad. “No, no. I understand. It’s a whole new world I’m joining and I have to keep my composure in all situations. This is the best way for me to learn.” Speaking hurt his split lip, but Peter tried to sound like he was confident that this all made sense. In some twisted, dark way, but it still made some sort of sense.  
  
“Come on. Let’s get you home so you can clean up and rest.” 

—-

The sun was setting by the time they arrived at Peter's building. His body ached and his mind was exhausted. Once the car stopped moving, he opened the door and climbed out.  
  
“Same time tomorrow.” Tony called out after him before he could shut the door. Nodding, Peter glanced back at him. “See you then.” With that, he shut the door and made his way slowly to his loft. He was just glad the day was over. Locking the door behind him, he laughed softly when he found a first aid kit sitting on his kitchen island.  
  
“Why am I not surprised?” Tossing his shirt and jacket somewhere near his laundry hamper across the room, he grabbed the kit and his camera, making his way into the bathroom. Making sure to snap a few photos, he sighed as he stared at his reflection. What was he doing?  
  
Deciding it would be best to order something simple to be delivered, he placed a quick pizza order before taking a painful shower. He watched as the blood rushed down the drain, letting the water wash the day away. Tired and sore, he finally stepped out, drying off before tending to his cuts, bandages and all.  
  
Slowly eating while writing down the days events for his board, Peter stared at the picture of Tony while his thoughts rolled through his mind. One moment he was putting him through ridiculous amounts of pain, then he was giving sincere apologies. Somewhere in the middle, he even made a strange comment. Why? What was he getting at? Was this a game or did he really care and feel bad?  
Pinning up the single notecard with the strange comment from when he was on the ground, Peter took another bite of his dinner. He could still feel the ropes around his wrists and the blade dancing over his body. Shuddering at the memory, he let a hand fall to his bandaged chest. “I just need some sleep.” He tried to convince himself he was just tired and that it would get better from here. Finally giving in and retiring to bed, sleep quickly came for him.


	5. Hard Shell, Soft Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to know Tony on a more personal level is making things much harder for Peter to keep his eyes on the prize. Taken to his house, he finds out that Tony is just a normal guy and it's both comforting and unsettling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have been a little hectic, but I finally finished the chapter. I hope you guys enjoy!

The next morning went by slightly better. Peter woke up mostly on time, able to properly dress and already be on his way down when Tony texted him. He didn’t argue about the blindfold this time and simply resigned in his seat in the car. His body still hurt and his lip had a nasty scab forming. He looked like he has been on the losing end of a fight the night before, but he was sure that would’ve hurt less. Lost in his own thoughts about what today would bring, he almost didn’t hear it when Tony spoke to him. 

“How’re you feeling today, kid?” 

Peter shrugged. “Like I got into a fight with Edward Scissorhands to be honest.” Tony rolled his eyes, letting out a soft laugh.

“Well you’ll be glad that today’s going to be an easier day. You get to see my place. I’ll show you around then we’ll start with some basic things after lunch. Invoices, how we keep up and process orders. Mostly paperwork in all honesty. Boring, but still important. While most of it is up at the warehouse, I still have some stuff at my place. Tomorrow I’ll show you some of the people we work with and if you’re feeling better, maybe some light sparring. I need you in fighting shape before my big meeting. These people are unpredictable and while I hope it all goes well, we can never be too careful.”

Peter nodded. “Sounds good. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.” Whether it was to reassure Tony or himself that he was going to be okay, he wasn’t fully sure. 

The rest of the car ride was quiet, soft music from the radio playing in the background. Judging by the amount of songs that passed, it was almost a good twenty or so minutes when the car finally came to a stop. Just like yesterday, Tony reached up and loosened the blindfold, letting it fall onto Peter’s lap. Blinking a few times to adjust, Peter couldn’t keep the look of awe from his face.   
The house was huge. It was more of a mansion then a house as a matter of fact. Windows disrupted the nice brickwork, spanning up three stories. A large entryway sat at the end of a paved walkway that was surrounded by a large, gated in and perfectly managed green lawn. It was already beautiful and he wasn’t even inside yet.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Tony chuckled as he stepped out his open door, Peter not needing any encouragement to follow suit. 

He stuck to Tony’s side, looking up at the large double doors in awe. Before they could even reach them, they opened, a nicely dressed man on the other side.   
“Welcome home, Mr. Stark. Right on time.” The man offered them a smile as they walked in. Tony unbuttoned his jacket, handing it to him before loosening his tie. “Make yourself comfortable, kid. Here we have nothing to worry about.” 

It took a moment for Peter to process what he had said, his mind preoccupied with taking in everything around him. A large and flashy chandelier hung from the high ceiling of the sitting room, a grand piano tucked comfortably in a corner mostly made of windows. Slowly unbuttoning his jacket, Peter admired the large and plush couches resting on an expensive rug, bookshelves taking up a portion of the walls, mostly full of books and random knick knacks. 

“Wow.” The single word left his lips before he could catch it, pulling a soft chuckle from Tony. “Come on kid, there’s a lot more to see then just the entry and sitting room.” 

Tossing his jacket to the man waiting patiently with Tony’s, Peter eagerly began to explore the many rooms. Each was large and extravagant in its own way. A living room with a ridiculously large tv, plush, reclining couches across from it with an ornate glass coffee table in the center. A kitchen with chefs moving around, full of food and delicious smells. A dining room fit for a banquet with a delicate chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a table large enough to sit a dozen. A theater room with a screen that took up the entire wall, fancy theater like seating forming three rows.   
Peter could only dream of ever being in a place like this, much less actually own one. Everything was expensive and plush, fitting Tony’s extravagant lifestyle. He just couldn’t get over it. The second floor had five guest rooms, each with their own full bathroom and over sized beds. But it was the third floor that piqued his interest. 

The hall was long and wide, but only one door on either side broke the expensive paint job. Glancing over at Tony, Peter stopped.   
“This floor is my floor. My bedroom and office.” The older man placed his hand on the doorknob to the left. “This one is my office, where we will be working. The other is my room, my own personal space.” Pushing the door open, a large office was revealed in front of Peter.   
One wall had bookshelves extending from floor to ceiling, mostly taken up by books that looked well used. A large, sturdy wooden desk was in the back, a large window behind the plush office chair. Paperwork scattered with files and a laptop across the surface. Two armchairs sat in front of the desk, each angled to accommodate the other. A black, plush couch was tucked into the wall across from the books, blending in with the dark, wooden background. “Wow.” Peter shook his head, unable to think of anything else. 

Walking up to the large window, he looked out over a larger backyard. Green grass, trees and even a small garden made up the outer part of the yard, a large swimming pool, complete with a waterslide and waterfall, several lounging chairs and a jacuzzi took the center. An outdoor kitchen wasn’t too far and an unattached patio had even more couches and chairs, all around a fire pit. It was amazing.   
“This place. You have such an amazing home, Mr. Stark.” Peter turned to face the proud man, hands in his pockets. “I’m glad you enjoy it. A lot of time will be spent here. Working and pleasure, so make yourself comfortable. Maybe soon you can even take a dip in the pool.” 

Walking back around the desk, Peter plopped down in one of the armchairs, sinking into the comfort it offered. Maybe Tony wasn’t such a bad guy. Right? A sharp pain at his torso reminded him that he was wrong. No one tortured you for fun. He wasn’t here for fun, he was here for a story. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. Biting the inside of his cheek, he sat up a bit straighter. “Well, what work do we have to do today?”   
Tony glanced at his watch, sitting in his office chair. Leaning back, feet propped up he scratched at his chin. “Well like I said earlier, paperwork, but not until after lunch. You have about an hour until food is ready, so in the meantime, any questions?”

Peter could feel his mind start racing a million thoughts an hour. This was his chance to interview Tony without him knowing. Shifting in his seat, he let his curious mind speak. “How old were you when you started all of this?” Tony chuckled and leaned back, looking deep in thought. 

“Probably around your age in all honesty. The second I could get away from home, I sought them out. I made myself a space and then made myself someone. It took years and a lot of sacrifice, but nothing I wasn’t willing to do. I may have had to grow up with nothing, but like hell if I was going to grow old without.” He paused, as if to hesitate with his next few words. “Like hell if I would’ve let my mom keep going without.”

Peter’s eyes softened as he listened to Tony. At times it was hard to remember he wasn’t just some big bad tough mob boss, but an actual person. “I’m sure she’s grateful for everything you give her.”

“Was.” Tony shook his head. “She got really sick and no matter how many doctors I sent her to, no matter how much money I spent, she still passed on. All I could do was make her comfortable.”   
Peter looked down, suddenly feeling bad for asking. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Stark.”

Bringing his feet up into his seat, Peter got quiet for a moment. He didn’t know what to say after all that. This was a side of Tony he never expected to see. “What made you want to do this?” His voice was soft, hoping not to provoke any more bad memories. Tony shrugged. 

“Dunno really. I guess growing up, I just saw how unfair it all was. My mom worked two full time jobs and we were still dirt poor while the guy selling drugs did just that and lived like a king. So I watched and I learned then when I was eighteen and graduated high school, I went to him and told him I wanted to work for him. I just went from there. I wasn’t going to work myself to an early death to live like that. I was going to give people what they wanted and live like a king.”

Peter looked up. “But don’t you feel bad? People are dead because of you. Drugs are running rampant in the city. Doesn’t that make you feel guilty?” His voice quickly became accusing as he shifted in his seat. After the words left his scabbed lip, he winced, preparing to be yelled at or even hit. Instead, Tony laughed. 

“Of course you would think that. You worked for the media.” Peter went to cut in, but the other man didn’t give him a chance to. “See, here’s the thing. In this world, everything is trying to kill you. I just happen to be a bit quicker then most of those things. It’s a fight for survival. As for the drugs, I don’t force them on people. I’ve never forced someone to buy them from me, I never made anyone shoot up or inhale. They came to me, or my men, wanting to either buy or sale. They came to us wanting another fix, so we provide it. Simple as that. If they OD that’s their fault. They chose to keep going beyond their limit. If someone gets alcohol poisoning is it the company’s fault? If someone eats too many burgers and has a heart attack is the restaurant to blame? No. It’s the people, because they CHOSE to go that far.” Sliding his legs off the desk, Tony tucked his hands under his chin as he watched the younger man. 

“I simply provide the supply to meet the demand. What they do is their own fault. They're adults, they can make their own decisions.” Peter looked down, his thoughts faltering. While he was against drugs and murdering people, he knew when he was wrong. It still wasn’t right, but Tony wasn’t wrong. Running a hand through his messy hair, he didn’t have a response, only the conflict in his mind. How could Tony be such a bad guy if he was a semi good person?

The remaining minutes of the hour was filled with easier questions, more superficial ones. Favorite movie, hobbies, birthday. Things of the sorts. Peter didn’t think he could handle anything else that could make him feel anymore conflicted then he already was. When noon struck, there was a knock at the door. The butler from earlier announced that lunch was ready and the two men shuffled downstairs to the dining room.   
Lunch was a nice salad along with sandwiches that somehow looked gourmet. Not that Peter complained, it all tasted great. The two made small talk as they ate, both trying to fill the otherwise silent room. For such a big house, there were very little people there. 

Once lunch was done and their conversations ended, they returned upstairs to Tony’s office and began to work. Peter stood behind Tony, looking over the papers and files as he spoke. Showing him how the invoices were laid out, how they filed them and finally, destroyed them. It was a simple system, but it worked. Their major buyers had their own files filled with invoices, future orders and even small info sheets with a photo of the person. Everything was filed away into locked filing cabinets that were locked into rooms. Only two people had the keys, Tony and whoever kept up with those files. It was too risky to let anyone else have potential access. 

The evening came quickly, the two losing track of time. When the same butler from earlier announced dinner, Peter couldn’t believe the time or how quickly it passed. Maybe it was the fact there was so much for him to learn that made time fly, but part of him also knew it was because he was kind of enjoying this. It was a whole new world and he loved learning about it. He also had to admit he kind of, just slightly, enjoyed being around Tony. He wasn’t a completely bad person and to see this side of him actually wasn’t that awful. It was like being in a cage with a lion, prepared for it to attack, but somehow knowing it won’t. 

Dinner was a nice, three course meal. Starting with some soup, followed by a nice seafood meal, then a delicious cake for dessert, Peter couldn’t believe Tony at like this daily. He was lucky if he had more than a single meal a day. Shoveling another mouthful of cake into his mouth, Peter lifted his fork towards Tony. “Man-“ He paused, swallowing the food. “-I can get used to this. The food is amazing. To think, I’ve been ordering take out and calling that fancy living.” Wiping the icing off his mouth, he caught what looked like a genuine smile on Tony’s lips. 

It was nice to see Peter enjoying his lavish lifestyle. Tony could still remember his days of scraping along and how unpleasant they were. The young man had a brilliant mind and a hopeful world view. Hopefully he could help him and mold him into someone as successful as he was. So far he seemed to be taking fairly well to his teachings and challenges, but he still had a long way to go. He definitely had his work cut out for him. 

 

——-

With dinner finished and cleaned away, the two men returned to Tony’s office once again. They continued to work through the paperwork and books, Peter catching onto everything fairly quickly. Not that it surprised Tony at all. The moon was dangling high among the stars when the older man’s phone rang. Peter jumped at the sudden sound, having completely forgotten about the outside world.   
Grabbing the phone off the far corner of the desk, Tony looked at the name lighting up the screen. Biting his bottom lip, he thought about sending the kid home for a moment before waving him towards the couch. “This is a really important call I have to take, but you’re welcome to stay. I think you’ve at least earned that trust.” Without giving him a chance to respond, Tony answered the call with haste. 

Peter stood there for a moment, listening to the distant voice over the cell phone, Tony leaning back into his chair. He couldn’t make out most of what was being said, so he didn’t bother sticking around. Wandering off to the couch, he plopped down, pulling out his own phone. Within minutes he was on his back, then his side, then stomach, legs over the armrest, one on the ground, one on the back. Even though the couch was comfortable and inviting, Peter still found himself constantly shifting positions. 

He could catch pieces of Tony’s conversation, things obviously not going his way. His voice rose here and there, a plethora of curse words decorating his end of the conversation. BGranted, Peter was very curious to try and figure out what was being said, he also found himself very comfortable and being tempted to close his eyes.   
Times like this, Tony missed having a phone with a cord. Nothing was quite as satisfying as slamming a phone when you were angry. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he set the phone down on his desk. He knew pulling this meeting off would be a headache, but it was becoming a migraine. 

“Hey, sorry bout that, kid.” Tony turned to face Peter, only to find him curled up on the couch, snoring ever so softly. Sighing, he knew he should’ve sent him home when he had the chance. Getting up, he organized the paperwork briefly before making his way to the couch.   
“Hey, wake up.” He reached out to nudge him awake, stopping when he saw how peaceful he looked. Man, this kid was a handful and bringing out a soft spot he tried so hard to keep hidden. This was going to be the death of him. Disappearing to his bedroom briefly, he returned with a large, soft blanket. Draping it over Peter’s thin frame, it quickly swallowed him as he snuggled into it. Rolling his eyes, Tony couldn’t fight the small smile. Closing the door behind him, he retired to his own room for the night.


	6. Derailed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an unintentional night's stay, Peter's never felt more confused. Between the lavish lifestyle Tony is showing him and their blossoming friendship (or whatever it is), his focus has never been any further off its mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all the chaos of the weekend, I kind of wrote two chapters. Have a second one! Enjoy!!

Peter was in a deep and comfortable sleep, lost in extravagant dreams of him living a lavish life. Maids, butlers, exotic foods, a large house, parties and company. Tony’s company to be exact, not that he would ever say it out loud. An ideal life really. The sound of someone knocking in the background was strange, but he pulled the blanket closer, clinging to the slowly dissipating remnants of the dream. “Nooo…” the word drawled out from tired lips, Peter pulling the blanket over his head as if it would shut everything out. 

A door opened, soft footsteps moving towards him. “Mr. Parker, Master Stark wishes to inform you that you have one hour to wake up and wash up until breakfast is served. Please, follow me to your temporary quarters.” The butlers voice was formal and gentle as he waited for some some sort of response. 

It wasn’t until the man spoke that Peter even remembered he was at Tony’s. He must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. Waking up somewhere comfortable, tucked in and left to rest was a pleasant change from the previous two times when he woke up to being tortured. Or trained. Whatever Tony wished to call it. With a resigned sigh, despite the fact Peter honestly wanted to drift back to sleep, the mention of food inspired his stomach to growl. Sitting up, he rubbed his tired eyes with his palms before standing up. 

“Lead the way Mr.-“ he looked up at the older man. 

“Jarvis. Call me Jarvis, Mr. Parker.” Turning on a polished heel, Jarvis began to walk at a brisk pace. Still partially asleep, Peter promptly followed after him down the hall and downstairs. He was lead to a door at the end of the guest hall, the door made of a solid, dark wood. Jarvis turned the knob, pushing the large door open. “Clothes have been prepared for you and laid out on the bed. Use the facilities as you wish.” 

With a quick thanks, Peter ducked into the room, looking around in awe. The room alone was almost as large as his loft, a king sized bed in the center, against the furthest wall. A blue T-shirt and loose fitting grey sweats were neatly folded, a pack of boxer briefs, socks, and new sneakers all side by side. Talk about guest service. Not being too particularly interested in the clothing, Peter wiggled out of his slacks and shirt, promptly jumping onto the large bed. He sunk in, each curve of his body being met with plush mattress and an incredibly soft comforter. Closing his eyes, Peter could’ve sworn he was floating. Several moments passed before he made himself sit up, not wanting to miss out on food. 

Opening the bathroom door, he wasn’t surprised to find it just as extravagant as the rest of the house. A jacuzzi like tub sat in front of a window, a large shower with a rainfall shower head a few feet away. Name brand and expensive shower gels, shampoos, and conditioners filled the shower organizer tucked into the corner. Large, plush and clean towels hung from a towel rack, a matching robe not too far away. Man, Peter could really get used to this. This was the nicest, most pampered investigation he had ever done. It almost made him feel guilty. Guilty. The feeling settled like a brick in the pit of his stomach.  
Turning on the hot water, he pushed it aside. This was Tony. Murderer. Gangster. All around bad guy. He deserved what was coming to him. Peter had to make sure to actually return home tonight, there was a lot to make note of. 

Steam fogged over the glass shower, Peter taking his time and relaxing under the steady water. He was going to have to invest in one of these. Cleaned and smelling of expensive shower gel, he wrapped a towel around his hips before moving to brush his teeth. Toothbrush in hand, he gave a quick swipe to the lighted mirror. Taking a moment to stare at his reflection, he paused. His hair was wet, sticking up in multiple directions. The bruises along his jaw were no longer purple, but now a disgusting bluish-yellow. His normally soft, pale pink bottom lip had a red scab along the split, still sore and achy if he wasn’t careful. Brown eyes stared back, rested but confused. What was he doing? He was in over his head in all of this. Parts of him he didn’t even know existed were beginning to show. It scared him. Who was he becoming? Closing his eyes, Peter looked away before brushing his teeth. 

——

Showered, dressed, and rested, Peter quickly made his way down to the dining room. Walking into the familiar room, he found Tony sitting at the head of the table, sipping on a mug of coffee. He took a brief moment to admire the older man, coffee mug held between large hands, day old stubble outlining his jaw, hair ruffled as if he had just rolled out of bed. 

“Morning, Mr. Stark.” He chimed, picking the chair to his left. Tony looked at him over the mug in his hands. Wet hair, tousled from drying, grey sweats hanging low on his hips, and to top it off, the blue shirt that was loose enough to be comfortable, but tight enough to show his toned figure. Of all the clothing for him to have sent him this morning. Setting the mug down with a thump, he leaned back in his seat. 

“Good morning to you too, kid. I’m assuming you slept well on the couch?” A thick brow rose as he spoke. Peter looked down, a bit of shyness and pink tinting his face. 

“I just got comfortable. What can I say, you have great taste in furniture. Thanks for the blanket by the way.” 

Tony simply nodded, as if he refused to verbally accept that he would do such a nice gesture. Jarvis soon walked in, setting down a glass of orange juice for Peter before returning to the kitchen doors to fetch their meal. 

“What was the call about last night?” Peter decided to start testing waters, wanting to see just how far he could get. Nervously picking at the napkin on the table, he anticipated an angry response. Tony didn’t respond at first, sipping once again at his coffee. 

“The meeting I’ve been working on setting up for weeks now. These people are infuriating.” He paused, Jarvis making his presence known again as he sat two large plates down, each piled with food. An omelette, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and toast. Each cooked to perfection. “Thank you, Jarvis.” He gestured the older man away, picking up his fork. “They want a deal, but won’t work with me. Idiots.” 

Peter took a bite of his toast, listening to each word the older man spoke. A few bites into his breakfast, he nodded. “Well, things like this are a two way street. I’m sure you can get things to work. You seem to be good at that.”

Tony didn’t respond, he just seemed to be in thought. The rest of breakfast was spent in a strangely comfortable silence, as if the two were just enjoying the other’s presence. It was, well weird in a sense. Peter stuffed his mouth with a bite of omelette as he glanced at Tony eating much more, well proper then he was. A man like this, you only heard and read bad things about. The murders, the drugs, and not to mention the crimes. Yet, with all of that cycling in and out of every type of media possible, he was still a person. He had a home and a life, dreams, fears, and he did normal people things. Seeing him in sweats and a hoodie was vastly different then the normal tailored to fit suits. He was like Peter. He liked bacon and sipped his coffee, he had fluffy blankets, and he just enjoyed some of the smaller things. It was almost comforting. 

—-

When breakfast was finally finished, Tony took Peter to his game room for a bit. Said they had to wait for their food to digest before they went to his private gym. So, they spent a couple hours playing Foosball and pool, joking, challenging one another and even challenging their minds with a nice intellectual conversation or two. For once, Peter felt completely at ease, relaxing and letting his normal, upbeat self show. He laughed, made strange faces, and spoke up without hesitation. It was like two friends spending an afternoon with one another. It was almost enough to make Peter forget what he was even doing. He wasn’t making a friend, he was working. Swallowing the slight swell of guilt in his chest, he smiled and kept it up. 

The small gym was about couple minute walk from Tony’s House, a bit further out on the grounds. It had an assortment of cardio machines as well as weights, a corner set up with mats and punching bags. As Tony kicked off his shoes and tugged his shirt up and off, it wasn’t hard to see how he kept in such good shape. Now that he wasn’t concerned about his well being, Peter could take a moment to admire the older man.

He wasn’t very built, but his body was nicely toned and muscled, muscles flexeing with each movement, an outline of a six pack etched into his abs, tattoos and scars adorning perfectly tanned skin. A light tuft of hair was tucked between his pecs and as Peter let his eyes travel further, a dangerous V cut on his hips pulled his eyes further down, a trail of hair perfectly centered between them, dipping into his sweats. And now he had to spar with this man. God, why did he look? Quickly turning his back to him, he removed his own shirt and shoes. 

Now it was Tony’s turn to admire. Peter looked scrawny, swallowed by baggy clothes and skinny jeans, but he wasn’t just a lanky kid. His arms were toned, showings of light muscles working underneath his pale skin. Bruises and healing cuts clashed against his skin, emphasizing each dip of muscle on his body. The beginnings of a six pack flexed as he turned, a gentle V pointing his eyes down to where they disappeared into the dangerously low hanging sweats. Tony swallowed hard. It was going to be an interesting afternoon. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke up as he stepped towards the center of the mats.  
“Don’t hold back, kid. I want to see what you got. See where we might need to work and get you a good system in the works.”

Peter nodded, stretching his arms briefly. “So I can not feel guilty about punching you?” A teasing chuckle rumbled in his chest. Tony rolled his eyes, not able to withhold the smirk on his own lips.  
“If you can. As a matter of fact, if you can pin me first for three seconds, I’ll buy you some ice cream. How’s that sound?” Taking his spot across from the younger man, he held out his hands at the offer. 

“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Stark.” 

And with that, the two men were at each other. Tony was strong and had his own style mastered, but Peter was fast and calculated. Punches, curses, and trash talk were quickly exchanged. A swift blow to Tony’s mouth made him take a step back, blood dripping from his split lip. Wiping the blood with the back of his hand, he raised a brow. 

“I may have underestimated you, kid.”

Peter smirked, sweat glistening along his body. “Good. I did my job then.”

The fight continued for several more minutes until Peter managed to sweep out Tony’s legs from under him. Taking the chance, he quickly climbed on top of the older man, knees on either side of his chest, fingers digging roughly into Tony’s wrists as he pinned his arms. The two men panted, eyes meeting, faces inches apart. Brown eyes held their gaze until a mischievous smirk tugged at Peter’s pink lips. Sinful thoughts flooded Tony’s mind. 

“I won, Mr. Stark.” 

He sat up, careful to keep most of his weight on his thighs instead of the other man’s chest. Tony suddenly sat up, rolling them over, pinning Peter to the ground. Staring up at him, the younger man swallowed hard. 

“Guess you did. You still have a lot to work to do though. Don’t get cocky.” 

With that, he quickly stood up, taking a few moments to calm his pounding heart. Peter simply lie there, trying to calm his own heart. What was he doing? The question flashed through his mind for the millionth time. 

——-

Ice cream in hand, Peter was returned home later in the evening. With plans to be picked up at what was now the usual time, he returned to his loft. After spending a night at Tony’s it felt small and boring. But it was still his. Setting his keys down, he hesitated before taking to his desk. He had two days of information and stuff to take note of, but he still couldn’t think of anything to write down. It was like his thoughts were everywhere except where he needed them.

After taking a few notes, Peter kept finding his thoughts returning to their fight. More specifically when their eyes had met. The intensity between them that made him shudder. Giving in after twenty minutes of low productivity, he forced himself to eat a quick dinner before showering and hiding in bed until he managed to fall asleep.


	7. Royals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has finally given in and is living the lifestyle of Tony. Their friendship has grown stronger, but is there more to it? In the mix of emotional confusion, Tony finally gets the biggest deal he’s been working on rolling. Will things work out on their favor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this took longer then normal, everyone! What was originally this chapter came out super long so I had to cut it into three different chapters and I keep changing them up. The next two shouldn’t take nearly as long seeing as they’re just about done. As always, thanks for the support and I hope y’all enjoy!!!

The next several weeks became almost routine. Six days a week Tony picked him up promptly at eight, the seventh day saved to visit May and spend time alone to try and gather himself. Peter could feel himself getting lost the deeper he went into anything and everything that had to do with Tony. His investigation work had all but dissipated. The note taking and article writing had moved from daily, to every other day, to a couple times a week, to him sitting at the desk doing absolutely nothing productive. It felt like if he went through with this, he was betraying himself as much as he was Tony. So, with it left untouched for days, he began to settle comfortably in this dangerous new world, letting the side he tried so hard to fight off finally take over. 

The two men had become rather close, spending most of their time with one another. More often than not, Peter stayed the night at Tony’s, having claimed one of the guest rooms for himself. Clothes, a few small knick knacks, and several personal belongings found themselves in the new home. They shared meals, jokes, and the most intense glances Peter could ever recall having. It was like something was buried beneath their friendship.

Something more. From the few too many touches that lingered, the static between their stares, and the pin downs during their spar sessions that last just a bit too long, Peter knew there had to be something more. Not that he would ever mention it. 

Their routine continued for weeks, Peter putting in as much time as he could. There were a couple more times like the first day, where Tony had him tied and tortured. Conditioned. It was exhausting in every aspect, but the day he was able to break free when grabbed, it ended. After that, it only went uphill from there. He learned at the warehouse, learning how to create their product, how to compose himself in front of a meeting, how to direct orders. He learned at Tony’s: paperwork, phone calls, extending their clientele, his fighting style. They worked out most days, honing in on their strength and teaching Peter new techniques. Once he was where Tony was satisfied, he was taken out to a makeshift gun range on his property. At first he just about dropped the gun the second he squeezed the trigger, but before long he was hitting just about every target given. It was then that the fun began. 

He tagged along on smaller deals, sitting in the car like a kid at first. Peter watched with curious eyes from where he was tucked away in the back seat. After a few ride alongs, he was allowed to join him  
outside the car, but had to stay quiet and stay back. After a few of those, he was finally able to do his own work, with Tony always present of course. After they were safely driving away, Peter handed him the money. To his surprise, the older man let him keep most of if. It was then that he willingly fell headfirst down the rabbit hole. 

With the easily earned money, Peter quickly went to May, buying her things she needed, as well as a couple things she wanted. He passed it off as a bonus and after a bit of a back and forth, he convinced her to let him buy her things. The more deals Tony let him run, the more money he had in his pockets. Some was saved, some was spent on May, and of course the rest was spent on himself. A new phone, new clothes, a nicer laptop, and even just a few extra luxuries he had wanted for a while now. 

Though, with this new, luxurious and dangerously illegal lifestyle, came bad times as well as good ones. 

—Two months after that fateful first day—

Peter strutted into Tony’s office, shoes polished, hair brushed, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging his now more defined muscles. Tony was sitting in his large chair, jacket tossed over the back, feet propped up on his desk. He was looking over some paperwork, chewing on the end of a pen cap. 

“What do we have on today’s agenda?” Peter plopped down in one of large armchairs, running a hand through his now messy locks. It never stayed brushed for long. Tony watched him, shaking his head slightly in amusement. Somehow, no matter how many times he would try and teach the younger man to style his hair, it always ended up messy one way or another. Thoughts of him being the one to mess up Peter’s hair drifted into his mind. How it would feel to tangle his fingers into those brown locks. Quickly burying them, he knew there were much more important matters at hand. 

“Actually, before we get there, I have some important news.” Tony let his feet slide off the desk, leaning forward onto his elbows. Peter raised a brow, shifting in his seat so that his back was against one armrest, his legs over the other. 

“Don’t keep me waiting here. Get on with it.” Peter rested his cheek against his open palm. 

“Remember that important meeting I’ve been working on getting set up?” It was a rhetorical question, his words continuing before Peter could even begin to respond. “I finally got it set up. It took months, but I did.”

The young man perked up, smiling proudly. “That’s amazing Tony! I knew you could do it.” 

Tony smiled, hiding it with a light turn of his head. “I want you there, kid. You’ve grown a lot in these couple months, you supported me through this whole migraine, and you’re my right hand. This is the biggest deal I could make, if we can make something work, and I want you at my side. What do you say?” 

The silence between them rang in Peter’s ears. Smaller, back alley deals were no big deal. Just a quick hand off, but this. This was huge. Anything could happen, anything could go wrong. A slight spike in anxiety made the young man stir in his seat, but he nodded after a moment. “Of course, Tony. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” A nervous smile tugged at his lips, his mind racing. There was no telling what would happen. 

The next couple days were spent getting ready, going over any minor details either of the two could think of. Any potential issues, plans on how to handle them, exactly where everyone would be, escapes, the whole nine yards. Peter and Tony would be the only two in the building with the two men they were meeting, Steve, Tony’s personal bodyguard, would be at the door, just to be safe. Between the two smart minds, they had pages of plans and solutions by the time they were through. 

It was the night before the big day and despite all the preparations, both men were still a rather nervous mess. Peter sat in the center of Tony’s large bed, legs crossed as he looked over the papers. Tony was in his large, walk in closet, pacing in and out, each time with a new outfit. 

“What do you think of this one?” The older man paused at his full length mirror, turning and checking himself from every angle he could. Peter looked up, chewing on his bottom lip. Tony’s hair stuck up on every direction it could from changing as much as he was, a neatly groomed goatee making its home on his chin. A perfectly tailored suit clung to his body, the workouts the two had been doing almost daily evident in how snug it was. The soft gray suit jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a matching waistcoat, black tie peeking over a white shirt. Grey pants clung to his hips and legs, and as he turned, Peter secretly admiring his firm ass. Feeling his cheeks burn a soft pink, he idly nodded. 

“Looks great, sir.” Peter managed to keep his voice steady, hiding behind the papers. Of course, he said that for every single one of the five suits he tried on up to this point, but this was probably his favorite. 

Tony ran a hand through his hair, somewhat pushing it back. “I’m nervous for tomorrow. Can you tell?” He finally admitted, leaning against his closet door frame, arms crossed. Seeing the normally calm, cool, and collected mob boss so frazzled was actually kind of entertaining. 

“You? Nervous? No, nahh, never. Pfffft couldn’t even tell.” Peter tried his best not to laugh, but the glare he earned from the older man made him flop onto his back in a fit of laughter. The clunk of a polished dress shoe hitting the heavy, wooden headboard brought the younger man to the current situation. Sitting up, he shook his head. “Yes, I can tell, but it’ll be okay. You’ve got this deal wrapped up in a box, all you have to do is put the bow on top.”

“Speaking of bow-“ Tony let his voice drift off at the end of his sentence, grabbing a box from his dresser. It was a fairly good sized box, the soft beige clashing with a big red bow perched on top. Peter carefully took it, making note of how heavy it felt in his hands. “-here. Open it.”

Glancing up at the other man, Peter lifted the lid, pausing when he found a handgun tucked safely in the middle, dark as the night sky. Picking it up with a slight hesitation, he couldn’t deny how perfect it felt in his hands. Light, powerful, balanced. Closing an eye and looking down the center as if aiming, he couldn’t take his eyes off the expensive gift. “Tony..thanks.”

Tony let out a soft chuckle that sounded more like a heavy exhale. “Can’t have my right hand coming in unarmed now can I? Consider it a graduation gift. You’ve taken my training head on and now you’re ready to take on just about anything.”

Turning the gun over in his hands, Peter smiled to himself when he saw a ‘P’ engraved on the side. “We definitely have this in the bag now. Nothing can stop us, Mr. Stark. Thanks, again.”

Tony began to strip off his clothing with a sigh. “It’s no problem, kid. Now all we can really do is hope for the best. I’m sure with you at my side, we got this.” The normal confidence was returning to his voice as he tossed the suit pieces onto a hanger. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the older man as he moved around in his designer boxer briefs that clung sinfully tight to him, leaving little to the imagination. Taking a deep breath, Peter did his best to not stare too much, or at least to not make it obvious. 

It was no secret how close the two had gotten, but the tension between them was at an all time high. It was like there was a want there, but neither would move or say anything. The way their gazes would hold, the side comments Tony would make before quickly changing the subject, how they would let passing touches linger. Oh, and the way Tony’s voice has deepened the first time he let Peter into his room, needing to change but not wanted to end their conversation. It was deep and inviting, especially when he opted to change in front of Peter. It got under every bit of his skin, but he was too scared it was just him imagining it all. 

Sure, he had tried to test out the waters in subtle ways: shifting from pinning Tony down by sitting on his chest to planting himself on his lap, making sure his swimsuit and sweats hung just low enough on his hips, Hell, he even got up in Tony’s space when they worked on paperwork, but nothing. Maybe it was just his imagination. A one sided infatuation with the powerful man. 

“I guess we should get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”

Peter didn’t even realize Tony had already dressed into loose shorts, exhaustion evident in his words. Had he been talking the whole time?

“Good plan. Night, Mr. Stark.” The younger boy crawled to the edge of the bed, feeling eyes on him until he was out the door and down the stairs. 

—-

The next morning was spent with an unusually chatty breakfast, Peter usually too tired to talk much while Tony read what the papers had to say about them. ‘Tony and new partner’ filled most of the articles and it was a proud moment for both of them. Peter was finally on all the papers, not exactly how he anticipated, but he would take it. However, this morning was spent with them talking over the plans for the day and a perfect timeline as for how they would do things. It was evident neither of the two got much sleep. 

Now they sat side by side in the backseat, Steve driving them to the building the others had agreed to meet in. It was about a thirty minute drive out, the opposing party feeling more confident in their meet with them being out of Tony’s mob territory. The car was filled with silence, not even the car radio providing a distraction. Peter could feel his heart racing as he did his best to distract himself with his cufflinks. 

Every so often, he spared a glance at Tony, who sat still, staring at the papers in his hands. He had brought along the deal in writing, ready to be signed by both parties. The gray suit he had tried on last now adorned him, Peter wearing a similar one, though slightly darker. They were ready by every definition of the word. Now they just had to make it out alive.


	8. Take Me to Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony head out to the big deal that the mob leader finally arranged, but when things take a sudden turn Peter has to act first and think later. The after affects are rough and their relationship is changed, but is it for the better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote so many things for this chapter, so it took longer then intended. I hope you all enjoy and as always, thank y’all so much for all the support!!

The building was abandoned, but still showed signs of a struggling life. Not all the windows were busted quiet yet, the brick walls were sturdy yet cracked and dust settled inside along the floor. There were two doors, but nothing else. No rooms or walls, just a large, open space and a half sturdy catwalk above them. Peter paced, each step he took bringing up puffs of dirt as Tony stood in one spot, adjusting his jacket and sleeves more than necessary. Steve stood at the door, waiting for the others. 

“They should be here any minute now. We need to make sure we look calm and composed.” Tony’s voice echoed around them as he wandered into Peter’s path. 

Nearly taking Tony down, having not realized he was in his way, Peter let out a nervous laugh. “Calm? I am calm. Pfft. Who are you kidding?”

Tony raised a serious brow, reaching up to slick back a few stray locks of the younger man’s hair. He looked down, but otherwise remained still and let him. The gun he had been gifted weighed heavily against his lower back, where Tony had shown him how to conceal it. The thought of having to potentially use it made his stomach turn. 

“I’m serious, kid. We have to keep it together, if they sense even a slight doubt or hesitation they will rip us apart.” Tony placed a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder as they let their eyes connect. The younger man nodded, chewing his bottom lip nervously. 

“They’re here.” Steve’s voice suddenly cut in, making the two men jump away from one another. They turned, watching as two equally nicely dressed men walked in, serious expressions holding on their faces. 

“Remember. Rule one, kid.” Tony whispered softly to Peter before greeting the two men. Peter followed suit before taking his spot beside, but slightly behind Tony and staying silent. They had the advantage of being able to see Steve from where they stood, but it didn’t help either of them relax. Things were calm for now, but that could always change. 

Words were exchanged, but it didn’t take long for things to become heated. Voices were raised and threats were made. Tony’s hands moved aggressively in the air as the other men took a step towards him. Peter’s hand twitched, wanting to grab for his gun, his legs shifted, wanting him to run, but he didn’t. Instead, he chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes moving from Steve to Tony. When they panicked, he would. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, getting lost in the echoing voices around him when he saw it. A twinge in Steve’s otherwise calm composure. 

Turning around, he saw the back door opening, a man walking in with a gun. Peter’s heart dropped. Countless thoughts and plans ran through his mind. He could grab his gun and hope his aim hit its target. He could grab Tony and run. Steve could handle it all. Yet, none of those things happened. 

“Tony, look out!!” Tony’s attention was ripped from the situation, Steve beginning to run towards his boss. It was like everything was suddenly moving in slow motion. With one strong shove, Peter managed to push Tony out of a bullet's path, the sound echoing through his ears as it shattered a window. Pushing off with his legs as hard as he could, he sprinted towards the man. He vaguely remembers hearing Tony shouting at him, but it was too late. 

The distance closed between them quickly as he tackled the man, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Peter could feel his heart in his chest, hear the blood rushing in his ears, see the gun clattering away from them. There was shouting, but it was far and muffled. He didn’t even have time to try and figure out what was being said before they were rolling around, exchanging punches. 

Peter could taste blood, feel it on his face and hands, warm and sticky, but he wasn’t sure whose it was. Adrenaline rushed through him as he kicked the nearing gun away, vaguely hearing the other man curse at him. There was no way he was going to let him win, even as he was pinned down and punched repeatedly. 

Tony began to run towards the two men on the ground, shouting at Peter, but Steve had a strong grip on him. He yelled, cursed, and fought to get to his partner, his friend, but to no avail. Steve was bigger and began pulling him towards the door as the other two men produced their own guns. Yanked outside and with the cover of the wall, Tony grabbed his own gun. 

“This was a fucking setup! You messed with the wrong guy!” Tony could feel himself trembling in anger as he pressed his back against the wall. “Steve, call our guys. We have to get Peter out.”

“Sir, we need to get you out of here.” Steve looked desperately at their nearby car. 

“Not without Peter!” Every rule, every lesson, everything he normally would abide by, went out the door. There was no way he would leave the younger man behind. 

Peter didn’t remember how, or even when, but somehow he ended up on top the other man, the gun he had been working hard to keep away, now in his hands. His throat was dry and suddenly he couldn’t stop shaking. He held it in both hands, loaded and ready to shoot. All he had to do was pull the trigger. The man stared up at him, blood staining his clothes and face. 

Kill or be killed. 

The man began to beg. Spat out every excuse in the book. Every false promise he could think of. A string of endless lies. Peter could feel tears burning at his eyes, countless thoughts racing through his mind. Tony’s words and rules echoed in his head. 

Kill or be killed. 

Everything froze and the sound of the gunshot was deafening. It wasn’t until Tony was grabbing him that he even realized what was happening or what had just happened. The gun was on the ground, the man not moving. Blood was quickly pooling underneath the body. Peter was shaking, his face and clothes splattered with blood, both his and the other man’s. Blood stained his hands. The man was dead and his blood was on his hands. 

Gunshots outside were exchanged, Steve and the other men shooting at one another. Shouts could be heard as more of Tony’s men began to show up. Even if they weren’t in his territory, he didn’t come alone. 

“We were set up! We have to get the hell out of here!” Tony sounded too far away despite being right beside him. Peter looked up at him, trembling, his eyes full of tears and terror. He almost looked lost despite being in the older man’s grip. Tony practically picked him up, keeping a protective arm around him as he guided them quickly to the car. Steve and the other men managed to chase off the other party so they could get out safely, but he knew they would have backup soon. The younger man stumbled into the car, Tony getting in behind him before shutting the door. The second it closed, Steve promptly sped off. 

Peter looked over at the older man right beside him, his stomach turning roughly. Everything felt surreal, like he was there, but it wasn’t him. Like he was observing while someone else took control of his body. Adrenaline and a mix of emotions swept through him as he turned to stare at his bloodied hands. A gentle, strong hand on his thigh ripped him into reality, almost like an anchor pulling down a balloon. Brown eyes fell to the large hand, thumb gently running along the material of his stained pants. 

“Are you okay?” Tony’s voice finally made its way into Peter’s head, who just stared at him with wide eyes. “Kid, are you okay?”

Before he could think, before anything else could happen, Peter grabbed Tony’s face, smearing two, bloody handprints on his jaw as he molded their lips together. The kiss was sloppy and needy, Peter desperate to feel that anchor. To feel like everything was okay again and like he was real. 

At first, Tony was caught off guard, eyes wide, but as he felt Peter begin to hesitate, he placed a hand on the back of the younger man’s head, returning the kiss. Closing his eyes, Tony gave into the moment, their lips gently moving together, the scent of Peter’s cologne filling his lungs. After several moments, Peter broke away, taking deep breaths he didn’t realize he even needed, lungs burning as he looked up at Tony’s blood stained face.

Then all at once, he came crashing back to earth, every feeling and everything that had just happened rushing through him. It was like he had just lost the best high he ever felt and was coming down to a harsh and twisted reality. Tony noticed him quickly turning pale, slamming a hand on the back of the passenger seat. 

“Steve, pull over. Pull over!!” 

The car quickly came to a stop on the empty street, the door flying open, followed by Tony shoving Peter out. The young man stumbled, catching his balance just in time to lose the contents of his stomach. Tears streamed down his cheeks, hands on his knees to help brace himself up. Grabbing a small bottle of mouthwash he kept in the car, just in case because you never know, Tony followed after him. Arms crossed, he leaned against the trunk of the car, waiting. 

“I’m sorry.” Peter sniffled, tears carving paths down his cheeks through the blood. 

“For?” Tony turned to look at the younger man. He felt bad seeing him so beaten down. Peter wasn’t ready to kill and he shouldn’t have put him in that situation, but he did. There was no easy way for him to get through the after effects of what just happened, all he could do was help him ride it all out. 

Taking the mouthwash from Tony, Peter looked away. He couldn’t meet his gaze, he had let him down. “For messing up. I know I should’ve gone with one of our plans, but I didn’t. I-I freaked out. I k-kil-,” he couldn’t bring himself to say the word, just the thought of facing that reality making his stomach churn again. Sipping at the mouthwash, he turned away. 

“Kid, there is literally no reason for you to apologize. If anything, I should. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. You reacted just fine and hell, you saved my life. That bullet could’ve killed me. This is a rough life to live, we have to kill or be killed.” Tony’s voice was soft and sincere, something Peter wasn’t used to. 

Spitting out the mouthwash, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Offering a crooked smile, Peter shrugged. “I guess. I just- I don’t know right now. I stepped out of bound in the car too. I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just needed to feel something real. I had to make sure I-“ Tony interrupted him quickly, pushing away from the car. 

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong, stop apologizing. I honestly have been waiting for that kiss to happen, kid. The tension and flirting between us? I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” 

Peter let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. At least he knew he wasn’t imagining all that. It was something. “Now let’s get home. It’s still dangerous out here.” Tony let Peter climb into the car, following at his heels, closing the door and letting Steve take them home.

Closing his eyes, Peter took a deep breath and let his head fall to rest on Tony’s shoulder. The older man hesitated at first, but after a moment, a strong arm wrapped around him. For that moment, tucked into the safety of Tony Stark’s side, Peter felt something he never thought he could put in the same thought as the older man. Safe.


	9. Now or Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinking and doing damage control after the chaos is just that. Right? After a few drinks and alcohol induced bravery, Peter makes a few moves and one thing ends up leading to another. Are they going to get closer or fall apart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change! I know some people may not be comfortable with smut so I marked where it starts and ends if you want to skip over it. 
> 
> Thanks for all your support, everyone! This chapter took me a bit longer as I’ve never written m/m smut and I’m nervous about how it came out in the end. I hope you all enjoy!

The car ride home was quick, but felt like it took forever. The front door opened as soon as the car doors opened, Jarvis on the other side, looking over the two men with a raised brow. 

“I’m assuming things didn’t go well, Master Stark?”

Tony shook his head, guiding Peter inside. 

“No. Get the first aid kit, the kid’s been hurt. We’ll be in my office.” Jarvis promptly closed the door and walked away. Peter stared at his feet as he walked, dirt staining the once nicely pressed grey material. His body ached with each movement, a reminder of what had just happened. A tremble ran through his body, his mouth going dry. With each throb in his head and each bruise that ached as he moved, a reminder of the death he caused weighed heavily on him. 

Lost in his thoughts, the younger man didn’t even notice they were in Tony’s office until the older man was holding out a glass to him. Peter stared at it, a light golden liquid hugging a couple ice cubes. Taking it in shaky hands, he felt a much calmer one on his back 

“Drink. It’ll help.” Tony had his own glass, already half empty. Without question, the younger man lifted the glass to his lips, taking a big gulp of its contents. The whiskey burned its way down his throat, warming him from the inside. “You okay?” Tony’s voice cut through his thoughts. 

“Yea. I just- I killed, someone, Mr. Stark,” his voice trailed off, sounding almost like a frightened child. Unable to handle the words leaving his own lips, Peter quickly downed the remnants of his cup. 

“The first time is always the hardest. It’ll stay on your mind for awhile, I won’t lie. Just remember, it was you or him. You did it because you had to, not because you wanted to. This death doesn’t define who you are, the fact you reacted so fast to protect yourself and save me does.” Tony hoped to help comfort him, grabbing the open bottle on the desk to refill both their glasses. 

Peter nodded ever so slightly. “You’re right. You’re right.” He repeated as if trying to convince himself. 

The door opened, causing the young man to jump, Jarvis walking in with a full tray in his hands. “Master Parker, you should take a seat.” The older man spoke, setting the tray down on Tony’s desk. Glancing at it before taking another drink, Peter could see a couple towels, two small, unopened packages with their contents hidden, cotton balls, a bottle of alcohol,and gloves. “And take your jacket off. I must get it cleaned soon, so it is not ruined.” Jarvis’ voice pulled him back to what was happening. With a light nod, Peter quickly removed his bloody jacket, tossing it onto one of the armchairs before Tony just about pushed him into his much larger chair behind the desk. 

A towel was presented to him, plush, white, and damp. Red blood from his fingers immediately bled into the material. “Wipe off your hands and face.” Tony’s voice came from behind him, the older man already wiping the bloody handprints Peter had left behind as proof from their kiss. Nodding, he wiped off his hands, the blood turning the white to pink. His face was a different story, the blood much heavier, especially from his forehead and cheek, where it burned harshly. Wincing, he quickly pulled his hands back. Reaching up with a shaky hand, he pressed his fingers to his forehead, fresh blood warm against his skin. With all the adrenaline over the past hour or so, he didn’t even realize he had been hurt. 

“I need you to sit still now, Master Parker.” Jarvis spoke as he put the gloves on, his sleeves rolled up. Strong hands firmly grasped at his shoulders, making him look up and back at Tony. 

“Kid, this isn’t going to feel that great. Finish your whiskey.”

Nodding, Peter picked up the glass and downed its contents once again, making a face as it burned its way into his stomach before settling heavily. The glass was taken from him before Jarvis was in front of him. A damp cotton ball pressed into his right cheek, a deep burn quickly spreading across his face. If it hadn’t been for Tony holding him and the large armchair at his back, he would’ve pulled back. “What the fuck?” The words slipped from his lips, the alcohol spreading through his aching body. 

“You’ve been hurt. I must stitch you up, now sit still.” Jarvis didn’t sound as professional and put together as normal, but more like a condescending parent. Clenching his teeth and shutting his eyes, Peter did his best to sit still. He could hear paper opening and movement, then a cold object against his skin. Tony’s grip tightened on one shoulder, the other moving to his jaw. As he went to ask why, suddenly came the sharp pain. Crying out in surprise at the pain, he understood why. Tony was holding him down so Jarvis could stitch him up. The cold needle was sharp and burned at his skin as it moved across his cuts. One on his cheek, the other his forehead. Eight stitches total. 

By the time Jarvis was done, Peter was trembling, the alcohol in his body only helping slightly. When he was released by Tony, his hands quickly found his refilled whiskey glass. 

“Don’t mess with them. When you’re healed, I’ll take them out.” Jarvis gathered the trash and the bloody jackets before leaving them alone to talk. 

The conversation started slowly, apologies coming from both ends. Then as the alcohol buzzed through them, Tony much deeper into the bottle then Peter was, their minds began to turn. What could they have done? What can they do now? How could they get their revenge? Plans and suggestions were tossed into the air, Tony reclining in his large armchair as Peter paced across the office, from wall to wall. 

It wasn’t until the conversation and thoughts died down and soft music had taken their place that Peter finally stopped. Glancing at Tony, he took a shaky breath. The older man had his feet up on the desk, slacks taught around muscled legs. White sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, tie loosened, gray waistcoat outlining his muscled torso. Strong, large hands rested on the armrests, fingers splayed over the plush material. 

It was now or never. 

“Mr. Stark.” A hint of slurring edged around each letter as he slowly began to make his way towards the older male. He simply raised a brow, looking over at him. “Earlier, when we were outside the car, you said you were surprised it took so long for me to make a move.” The alcohol numbed his nerves, slender fingers running along the sturdy wood of the desk. 

“I did.” Tony let his legs slide down to the floor, straightening up in his seat. The air around them began to buzz, eyes locking in a heated gaze. Peter chewed on the corner of his lip for a moment, slowly making his way around the desk. 

“You wanted it, didn’t you?” His voice lowered, heart pounding. Tony nodded. Slowly, he stalked towards the older man until their knees were brushing. When he didn’t move away, or closer, Peter took a deep breath before moving again. Leaning forward, he trapped Tony’s head between his arms, a hand resting on the back of the chair to either side of him. Carefully, he slid a slender leg onto each side of Tony’s thighs, lowering himself until he was seated on his lap, chest to chest. 

Slowly, he leaned forward, lips brushing against his ear. “Then why didn’t you take it?” His breath was warm against Tony’s skin, pulling a shiver down his spine that shot straight between his legs. His fingers dig into the armrests, breath coming a little faster. 

“Is that what you want? For me to take what I want?” His voice was husky with need, a hint of a primal growl to each word. 

Peter leaned back, pressing his lower body against Tony’s. Their eyes locked. 

“Yes.”

That was all that was needed. The floodgates rushed open and there was no more holding back, no more subtle touches, no more hiding their cravings. Tony released the armrests, one large hand grabbing roughly at Peter’s hip, the other tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. A groan slipped from Peter’s lips, Tony’s promptly pressing into them. At first it was gentle, slow, and cautious. Testing the waters, making sure they didn’t chase off the other by going too fast, but the second Peter felt Tony’s hardening length press into his ass, there was no more caution. 

Rolling his hips down, the younger man groaned into the kiss, pulling a soft growl from Tony in return. His fingers grabbed at Tony’s waistcoat, pulling his body closer, hips rolling, desperate for the friction causing his own pants to become uncomfortably tight. The kiss became rough, desperate, and needy, months of need heating the room around them. Teeth clashed, tongues explored, groans mixed in with the music, and hands began to roam bodies. 

Slowly, and with hesitation, Tony broke the kiss, Peter lazily chasing after it with a whine. Smirking at the sound he managed to draw out the younger man, he let his lips brush across his bruised cheekbone, careful to avoid the one with stitches. Slowly, he traced kisses and gentle bites down along his jaw and towards his neck, Peter letting his head fall back, exposing the pale skin to him. Shuddering as Tony’s goatee tickled at his skin, contrasting against the bites and bruises he was administering, his kiss bruised lips parted in whines and moans, hips grinding down desperately. 

With shaky, yet sure hands, Peter began to unbutton Tony’s waistcoat the best he could without seeing. When he reached the final button, he began on the shirt, desperate to feel bare skin. Pushing Tony up for a moment, Peter leaned back slightly, just enough to finally finish the job at hand, pushing both articles of clothing down and off. Biting his bottom lip, he stifled a groan as his slender hands finally began to roam Tony’s muscled torso. The older man gasped, enjoying the gentle touches. Not quite as patient as Peter was, Tony only managed to get a couple buttons undone before giving in and pulling at the material of Peter’s shirt, buttons clattering to the ground. The younger man was about to protest, but calloused fingers brushing over his nipples pulled every single word from his lips into moans and whimpers. 

Leaning back down, Tony sucked one more dark bruise right over Peter’s pulse. “We should move this to my room..” Tony’s voice was breathless against his neck, hands moving around to grasp handfuls of Peter’s ass. Pulling his lips back, he admired his handy work, bitemarks and bruises left spotting the pale skin. The younger man simply nodded, unable to find words. 

Standing up, Tony helped Peter to his feet, their lips meeting again. He quickly dominated the kiss, pushing Peter’s shirt down his arms and to the ground as they stumbled their way into his bedroom. The younger man didn’t realize where they were, lost in each touch and sound they each made, until the back of his knees pressed against Tony’s plush mattress. Pulling away from the kiss, he pressed his nose into Tony’s neck, inhaling the lingering cologne, almost completely covered by whiskey and his natural musky scent. Pressing nips and kisses onto his skin, Peter took the moment of soft gasps and moans from the other man to quickly switch their positions. 

Feeling hands pressing at his chest, Tony sat down, looking up at the other male. The sight alone was one to pull a growl of need from his chest. Peter was disheveled, hair in all directions, lips swollen and bruised from their abuse, neck covered in marks ranging from barely there to purple and staying for days. Before he could reach out and pull him down to his lap, Peter pushed a knee between Tony’s. Without question, his legs spread open and Peter was on his knees between them. 

————

 

Slender and eager hands began to quickly undo his belt, followed by the zipper and button of his slacks. A soft sigh of relief slipped from his parted lips, the material having become painfully tight. Leaning back on his elbows, Tony watched with hungry eyes as Peter tugged his pants down to his knees, immediately pressing his nose into his clothed cock. Biting his bottom lip, he stifled a groan as the younger man began to mouth along his throbbing length. 

Peter inhaled Tony’s heavy scent, feeling his own member throb in response. As always, he wore those damned, skin tight boxer briefs, but now, now he would get to see the prize beneath them. His tongue lapped eagerly at the damp spot of precum, a moan of delight escaping him at the taste. Despite the enjoyment he was getting from teasing the older man above him, Peter was growing impatient. Hooking fingers into the waistband, he tugged the material down as Tony lifted his hips. Kicking off his pants and underwear, Tony couldn’t help but smirk at Peter’s reaction. 

He wasn’t small, but not particularly big either, just above average, but he was definitely thick. Reaching up, Peter took him into one of his hands, giving him a few strokes, slowly kissing up his thighs. A hand tangled into his hair, impatiently tugging at his brown locks as he guided him messily towards his member. Normally Peter would’ve fought back, made him tell him where he wanted his mouth, but right now he was just as eager. 

“Take what you want, Mr. Stark.” The words rolled off Peter’s tongue, Tony’s name practically purring from his lips. The other man quickly sat up, bracing himself on one hand as the other tugged at his hair. 

Placing a hand on either of Tony’s thighs, Peter opened his mouth, letting his tongue stick out ever so slightly over his bottom teeth as he looked up through his lashes. Tony was almost panting, his eyes never leaving the younger man. Seeing him coming undone and knowing it was because of him made Peter whine in need. 

Pushing his head down, Tony used his other hand to guide himself into Peter’s mouth before bracing himself on it once again. A very breathless “Fuck” slipped from his lips as he slid into Peter’s sinfully tight and eager mouth. Peter’s jaw ached as he stretched his mouth open, lips wrapping eagerly around Tony’s thick cock. Never taking his eyes off Tony, wanting to watch his every reaction, he let the older man guide him down until his slender fingers squeezed at his thighs. Breathing through his nose the best he could, Peter could feel tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. He just needed a moment to adjust. He had to admit though, Tony had a large amount of self control, keeping himself still until his grip on his thighs loosened. 

At that moment he pressed Peter down until his nose was pressed into nearly groomed curls of hair and gagging. Yet, even as tears streamed down his cheeks and his jaw ached in a way he knew would last through the morning, Peter didn’t stop him. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking and working his tongue eagerly around him as Tony bobbed his head at a steady pace. Reaching down with a shaky hand, Peter desperately began to undo his own pants, unable to take it anymore. He was so hard it hurt. After a few tries, he managed to get his pants undone and down just enough to take himself into his hand. 

The moment Tony realized Peter was touching himself was one the younger man was glad he managed to catch. His jaw dropped slightly as the most erotic moan left his parted lips. Tugging Peter’s mouth off his cock wasn’t an easy task, but he couldn’t wait and he knew the younger man couldn’t either. 

“Up.” Tony commanded Peter as he released his hair, grabbing at his arms to help him. Peter was glad for the help, his knees weak. The other man stood up, pushing Peter towards the bed. “Clothes off and on your hands and knees.”

The harsh and commanding tone alone could’ve made Peter come undone. Without hesitation, he managed to get his pants and boxers off, crawling to the center of the bed, bracing himself on his hands and knees. The sound of a drawer opening and digging around could be heard behind him. Biting his bottom lip, Peter forced himself to stay still. The bed dipped at his feet as Tony joined him, a large hand running its fingers gently across the smooth skin of his ass. Taking a sharp breath, Peter couldn’t help but shift into the touch. He was rewarded with a harsh smack, leaving a red hand print in its wake.

Crying out, Peter dug his fingers into the comforter. “Mr. Stark...please. Please, I need more..” His voice was raspy and soft, begging relentlessly in hopes to get what he needed. He could practically hear the damned smirk on Tony’s lips. The sound of a bottle opening filled the silence between heavy breaths before a slick finger pressed at his tight hole. 

Slowly, a large finger worked passed the muscles, Peter crying out in a pained delight. Tugging the comforter into his hands, his head fell as he adjusted to the slight movements and invasion. Tony was careful, waiting until Peter’s head was raised back up, his hips moving ever so slightly. Biting his bottom lip to stifle his own groan at the sight, the older man carefully added a second finger. Curling and scissoring the two digits, he worked Peter open, rewarded with moans and whines, the younger man wanting more. 

“Oh, fuck! There, again!!” Peter’s sudden cry of pleasure was all Tony needed. He smirked in delight, pressing his fingers over and over into that one spot that had Peter practically screaming under his touch. Despite how wonderful it was to hear him crying out like that, Tony pulled his hand back, Peter immediately protesting. 

“I got you. Trust me, I’m about to make you feel a lot better.” The older man opened the lube once again, spreading a generous amount along his length before lining himself up behind Peter. Taking a deep breath, he slowly pushed into him, feeling the younger man tense up. A gentle hand running along his spine, followed by soft praises helped Peter relax, his breathing labored as he felt Tony bottom out inside of him. The stretch burned in the most delightful way, one that had him making sounds he never had before. 

“Tony…” Peter begged softly, the man’s name dripping from his swollen lips like honey. It took whatever remnants of self control he had left to not just start pounding into him, Tony starting his thrusts shallow and soft for the time being. It didn’t take long for Peter to start crying out “Harder, faster” repeatedly until Tony was giving him his all. 

Peter felt his arms shaking, giving in as he felt his release building up. Letting his face fall into the plush mattress, Tony’s name was the only coherent word he could form, practically screaming it out over and over. A strong arm snaked around his waist, grabbing at his throbbing cock. 

“Come for me, Peter.” The sound of his name on the older man’s lips sounded so intimate, breathless and moaned. That alone brought his orgasm ripping through him, the most erotic sounds mixed with Tony’s name falling from Peter’s mouth like a mantra. Feeling Peter clench around him as he thrusted several more times brought Tony to his own orgasm. 

————-

The two men remained still for several moments, panting and gathering themselves. Tony finally flopped onto his side, a hand over Peter’s, the other on his own chest. Peter, laying on his stomach, looked over at the older man, admiring his silhouette in the moonlight that peered through the curtains. Spreading his fingers, he gently took Tony’s between his own before closing his eyes. Side by side, hand in hand, the two men dozed off into a well deserved sleep.


	10. Drugs and Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the new step in their relationship, things only get more complicated. Trying to avoid facing his feelings, Tony only causes more problems, pushing Peter down a dark hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to post, I kept rewriting this chapter and then I hit writers block. Hopefully I can get the next chapter up faster. 
> 
> As always thank you everyone so much for the support and I hope y’all enjoy!

When Peter woke up in the morning, it took several moments for the previous days events to catch up to him. Opening his eyes, he found himself alone and in Tony’s large bed, blanket pulled over his naked body. Running a hand through his hair, he let out a heavy sigh. He shouldn’t be surprised to wake up alone, but the sting was still there. As is, he was just lucky things went like they did and he ended up in the older man’s bed, but for all he knew it was all the alcohols doing. Just the alcohol and nothing else behind it. 

Forcing himself out of the bed, he wandered into Tony’s bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. It was large and extravagant, much like everything else, a large jacuzzi like tub beside a large shower. A two sink counter sat in front of a large, well lit mirror. Feeling his heart skip a beat, Peter couldn’t look away from himself. 

Stitches stood out on his cheek and forehead, red and irritated. Dark bruises covered his torso and arms, but those were expected after the fight. It was the marks up and down his neck and chest that made him almost not recognize himself. Lifting his chin, his fingers ran along the skin, tracing a few of them. There had to be at least a dozen, some he knew would fade by the end of the day, but the others. He was sure they would last at least a week. What was he doing with himself? Dark eyes bore into his soul, forcing himself to look away. Killing someone was one thing, but drunkenly having sex as some twisted distraction method was another. It was like what he did wasn’t a big deal. 

Turning on the shower, he let the glass fog up before stepping in, the water hot as he could stand it to be. Scrubbing at his skin with the first luxury body wash he could grab, Peter hoped to wash away yesterday’s doings. 

Much to his surprise, when the young man stepped out the bathroom in nothing more than a towel, Tony was sitting on the edge of his bed, sipping a cup of coffee. 

“Morning, Peter.” His eyes glanced up over the mug as he stepped out the bathroom. Peter’s name on his lips sent goosebumps along the younger man’s skin, memories of the way he had moaned it replaying in his mind. Clearing his throat, Peter closed the bathroom door behind him. 

“Morning, Tony.” The moment dangling between them felt so intimate, like a newlywed couple waking up the first morning after in their new steps of life. 

“Jarvis will be bringing us breakfast in bed this morning. I figured we could just relax this morning before I head out. I have something to attend to and I have some stuff for you to do here.” Tony hoped the mention of food would distract Peter from the fact he was leaving him behind. They always did meetings and such together, but he couldn’t let him come along this time. Not after the previous day. He couldn’t have questions asked about all the hickies he had left behind, but most of all, he couldn’t put Peter’s life in even the slightest amount of danger. Not so soon anyways. 

Peter looked like he wanted to protest, words lingering on his tongue, but he simply nodded instead. “Where are you going?” 

Tony took another drink of coffee. “I have to gather some of the other higher ups from other areas and our allies. We have to get a plan together for how we’re going to handle what happened yesterday.”

The sudden knock at the door took away any more questions he wanted to ask. Instead, he froze as Jarvis walked in. The clothes thrown everywhere, Peter only in a towel, the hickies; there was no denying what had happened. Yet, Jarvis didn’t say anything, simply sat a large tray of food down on the bedside table and left the two men to themselves. Tony stood up and wandered to the tray, plucking a piece of bacon off one of the two plates.

“Jarvis doesn’t judge and won’t say anything. Now come and eat, kid.”

Breakfast was enjoyed in silence as the two ate, sitting close enough in the bed for their elbows to bump from time to time. In the comfortable silence, Tony skimmed the newspaper as Peter checked his multiple social media accounts, head resting comfortably on the older man’s shoulder. It wasn’t until Tony was dressing, getting ready to leave and giving Peter directions for his own days work that Tony finally brought up the previous day. 

“Kid, are you gonna be okay? I know yesterday was fairly rough on you.” 

Peter looked up, tugging on his dirty slacks so he could run to his room without being naked. Looking down, he nodded. “Yea, I think I’ll be okay. I just- I think I’ll need a little time.” He shrugged, finally looking up at the older man. 

“Hey, Tony?” 

The older man turned from his mirror to find Peter right behind him. “Be safe out there. Let me know if you need anything.” With a deep breath, he pressed a gentle kiss to Tony’s lips. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he returned it, a hand falling to Peter’s hip. 

“Will do.”

——

Just like most things in their relationship, the two men settled into their version of a routine. Tony was an addictive drug Peter couldn’t get enough of. Peter was as sweet as any candy, Tony craving him constantly. Most nights Peter would end up in Tony’s bed, crying out his name like a prayer. Other nights he would find Tony up late in his office and offer him some distraction under his desk.

On the few and rare nights where Peter fell asleep early, tired from the days work, he would wake up in a nightmare induced cold sweat. It had been almost three weeks by this point, but memories of that night plagued his mind the few nights he slept alone. On those nights, he would crawl into Tony’s bed, where the two half awake men would lazily kiss before drifting to sleep in one another’s arms. 

It was one of those nights that Peter realised Tony had another part of their routine. Most nights, this one included, he could taste whiskey on the other man’s lips. It was bitter and the more he thought about it, the more his mind began to work, making Peter’s antics become even more needy and anxious. Did the older man need alcohol to fool around with him? Was he just doing this because he pitied him? Were the feelings Peter felt one sided? That would explain why Tony was straying away from him more often then he used to. 

Sending Peter on smaller deals while he went on larger ones. Making him stay home and work on paperwork while he went off on meetings. It all made sense.

Peter’s mind began to work overtime on the anxious thoughts as he paced along Tony’s large house. Jarvis had offered him a warm glass of tea multiple times, but every single time he declined the offer. Tony had went off on another meeting, leaving Peter to his own devices since their breakfast together. The little sleep he had gotten the night before didn’t help, having stayed at his loft like he did every Sunday after visiting May. 

Making his way up the steps once more, he retreated to his room, closing and locking the door behind him. Leaning against the door, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

“Why me? Why?” Peter groaned as he sank to the ground. Times like this he missed the old him. Working for the newspaper and writing simple articles. Why did he have to try and get a better story? Why did he always have to strive for just a step above where he knew he should’ve stopped? What was his relationship with Tony? What were his own feelings about the older man? Why couldn’t he have something to help calm his thoughts? Sure, he could easily get some of Tony’s copious amounts of alcohol he had laying around, but that wasn’t exactly his cup of tea.

Letting his head fall back heavily against the door, he sighed. His eyes fell to his phone as it slid out of his pocket. Part of him wanted to call Tony, ask him to come home and keep him out of his head, but he knew he couldn’t. It would look bad on Tony leaving wherever he was, but it would look just as bad on himself. He wasn’t some needy child, he was a grown adult. 

Glancing around his room for some sort of distraction, Peter’s brown eyes fell on the small bottle of pills on his dresser. It was only half full, most of its contents having been sold over the past few weeks. Swallowing hard, he stood up and hesitantly made his way to the bottle. If Tony had his own vice, why couldn’t he? Besides, how bad could it be?

Opening the bottle with a small pop, he dipped a finger in, managing to fish out one of the small pills. Setting the rest down, he couldn’t take his eyes off the one in his hand. It was small, but seemed so big. Was he really about to do this? Clenching his eyes closed, he placed the pill on his tongue before washing it down with a drink of water. 

——

Tony made his way to his car from the factory, Steve holding the door open for him. 

“Things go well today, boss?” 

Tony shrugged. “Still nothing on the others. Seems like after the day of the set up they either went into hiding or tucked tail and ran. That’s what makes me nervous, they could be planning something. Something a lot bigger then what went down already.” He looked down at the time on his watch, the evening sun already setting. If he hurried, he might make dinner with Peter. 

Staring out the car window as Steve drove him home, Tony sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He hated keeping the younger man at an arm's length, but he had to play it safe. The things happening at home were one thing, but now he was starting to get attached. Peter held a special place in his heart and life and putting him in danger on purpose was beginning to become incredibly difficult to do. He just wanted to keep him safe and tucked away. Especially after seeing how that day effected him. Loud noises made him jump and when he saw the healed scars on his face, he flinched. Hell, he couldn’t even sleep alone without nightmares. Not that Tony complained about spending so much time with Peter, having him to hold at night was nice. So was the sex, but was it for all the wrong reasons?

Sure, it kept Peter happy and content, but what was it between them? Part of Tony wanted to fight his feelings and deny them tooth and nail, but the rest of him knew he had to accept them at some point. Biting his bottom lip, he grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to Peter. 

‘On my way home. If you haven’t eaten dinner, I’ll join you.’

——

Peter lie on his bed, staring at the ceiling as music played in the background. His mind swam as his body floated. He felt great, like there wasn’t a single worry in the world. He could understand why people would spend money on these things. With a content sigh, he picked up his buzzing phone. Reading the words on the screen, he smiled softly. Tony was actually coming home to him. Getting dressed in a pair of baggy sweats and a shirt that was just small enough that the sleeves strained over his arms, Peter all but ran downstairs to wait for his friend who was maybe more than that. 

——

The first fewl days, Tony didn’t notice anything off with the younger man. They ate together, a couple days Peter tagged along with him, and at night they found themselves between the sheets before cuddling one another to sleep. It was strangely domestic, but he enjoyed it. 

It wasn’t until about a week later that Tony noticed the change. Peter was shirtless on his lap, in Tony’s room, slowly grinding his hips down with soft sighs of delight. They shared lazy kisses, letting smiles linger between their lips, hands slowly exploring along exposed skin. The two men were genuinely just enjoying feeling one another in the late afternoon, having gotten everything done early. The older man said something, Peter not hearing it as his mind drifted. That’s when he noticed it. 

“Peter.” His name hung in the air between them, the younger man opening his eyes at the sound of his name. 

“Hm?” A lazy smile ghosted along his lips, his slender hands running along Tony’s chest. 

“Are you okay?” Tony’s brows drew together, concern hinting at his brown eyes. 

It took a moment for Peter to process the question before he nodded. “Oh, yea. Why?” 

He looked into Tony’s eyes and that’s when he saw it. His pupils were large, the whites of his eyes a light pink. 

“Peter. What did you do?”

The younger man quickly looked away, his hands stopping at Tony’s waist. A strong hand grabbed at his jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze. Swallowing hard, he tried to shake his head. 

“Nothing. Why?”

“You’re high. What the fuck did you do?!” Tony released Peter’s jaw, feeling anger and concern blooming in his chest. Peter, immediately growing defensive, slid off Tony’s lap, bringing his arms into his chest as if to protect himself. 

“What? You can have your vice, but I can’t have mine?” He spat out the words like venom, not daring to meet Tony’s piercing gaze. 

“My- my what? I don’t do drugs, Peter.” Tony moved his hands through the air before grabbing at the edge of his bed. 

“But you drink! You always fucking drink! Do you think I can’t taste it when we kiss?!” Peter could feel himself getting riled up as he began to pace. “Just about every kiss with you tastes like whiskey.”

“I don’t always drink. Yes, I have a glass most nights, but I’ve been doing that since long before you came along. I don’t do it because of you if that’s what you’re insinuating. I do it because this job is stressful, especially lately. We’re trying to catch those bastards and we can’t. Do you know how that makes me feel and look?”

Peter looked down, chewing on his bottom lip. “You relax with alcohol, I relax with pills. What does it matter?”

“First off, you never get high off your own supply. Second off, you shouldn’t even have thought about taking anything. I know this probably sounds incredibly hypocritical coming from a drug dealer, but that’s not good for you.”

“Neither are you!” The words slid from Peter’s lips before he could even think about it. Tony visibly flinched, the words stinging him down to the core. Tears began to burn at Peter’s eyes. “You’re just as addictive. All I want is to be with you and feel you and kiss you. All I want is you, Tony, but you’re pushing me away! Yea, sure, I get to be in your bed, but what for? A fuck then you’re distant again the next day.”

Tony shot up, pointing a finger at Peter. “Don’t. Don’t start this. You know I don’t want to. What am I supposed to do? I’m trying to protect you! You saw how bad things got and you know better than anyone how it affected you. I mean, Jesus Christ, you’re taking fucking drugs now! I’m trying to keep you safe.”

Peter shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’t. I’m not a kid! I can protect myself!! You of all people should know that, you trained me personally! I started taking pills because YOU started pushing me away! All I want is to be at your side and to help and you won’t let me!”

Tony flinched when Peter accused him. It hurt, because he knew he was telling the truth. He opened his mouth to respond, but Peter didn’t give him a chance. 

“What are we, Tony? What is all of this between us? Am I just a body to keep your bed warm?” Wet brown eyes looked up to meet Tony’s. 

“You know that’s not what this is. You know you mean more than that to me, Peter.” Tony’s voice was soft and broken. “That’s why I have to protect you, if anything happened to you out there- I-I would never forgive myself.”

Peter looked away. He wasn’t sure which answer he would’ve preferred to hear. It would’ve been easier for Tony to say he was just a good lay, but for him to acknowledge the feelings between them made everything so much more complicated. 

“I have to protect you, Peter.” Tony quickly closed the gap between them, resting his hands on Peter’s waist, thumbs brushing along his bare skin. “Even if it’s from myself. I drove you into this pitfall. It’s my fault for all of this.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “I think we need some time apart.”

Peter quickly shook his head, going to protest when Tony’s lips slid over his own. The kiss was unlike any other they shared: soft, gentle, and with every bit of compassion behind it the older man could put into it. 

“Tony, please..” Peter cried softly, hiding in Tony’s chest. 

“I think it’s for the best. For both of us. At least until we can figure out what this is.”

—-

Peter packed up a duffle bag, not bothering to say goodbye before heading out to the car. His heart ached and even though he knew Tony was right, it still hurt. Maybe a few days apart would help them. Then when he came back, things would be better. It wasn’t permanent, he would be back and in Tony’s arms again. 

Steve drove him home, the car silent and the air heavy. When his loft came into sight and Steve stopped, he knew this was actually happening. Just like when things had started, he was alone and scared. Only this time it wasn’t Tony he was scared of, it was himself and there was no reasoning things out with himself. All he could do was survive the next several days until Tony showed up.


	11. Nicotine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apart from one another, Tony and Peter must deal with the loneliness they both feel. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? However, when the waters finally calm, they realize they are simply in the eye of the hurricane. Will they be ripped apart once again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I’m an awful person *insert shrugging emoji* I hated everything I kept writing and I changed so much. It took me so long and I’m sorry the update took forever! Thanks for sticking around though, everyone!! I hope y’all enjoy!

Peter couldn’t function. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t relax, he didn’t eat. All he could do was pace and think. What had he done? How could he let his own thoughts bring ruin to the one thing, the one person, he wanted more then anything. By the second day of functioning off energy drinks, Peter couldn’t tell which withdrawal was worse. The one from Tony or the one from the pills. His body craved both and it made him antsy. 

Running a hand through his uncombed hair, Peter let his mind drift. Turning, his brown eyes fell on the board hanging on the wall. His halted research. The forgotten notes. The reason he had even let himself go along with things in the beginning. Reaching up with a shaky hand, he took the first photo he had taken of Tony down, his gaze lingering on it. The beginning to his downfall. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Peter looked up at the scribbled notes and the pictures of the men he had gotten to know. Things had changed so much since then. 

Biting down on his bottom lip, he hastily ripped down the papers and pictures as if it would make everything in his life better. Crumpling them up, he went to trash it all, but he realized how bad that idea was. Anyone could find it all and in moments his life would crumble apart again. He would have to dispose of it all in a more permanent way. Like a fire. Digging out an old shoe box, he placed the crumpled notes and pictures into it, deciding to find somewhere to rid himself of it all. Of his old life. 

Exhausted and frustrated, Peter let himself fall back onto his bed. It was cold and unfamiliar. Even with the multiple pillows and blankets it felt too empty. Closing his eyes against the late afternoon sunlight, at some point he managed to fall asleep. It was restless and filled with nightmares of him killing someone, but it wasn’t until he was pointing his gun at Tony that he woke up. Sitting up too fast, feeling only slightly better then before he fell asleep, Peter groaned. 

“Why me?” He whined, pressing his hands into his tired eyes. Despite having gotten sleep, he still felt rather restless and tense. He had to do something. Distract himself somehow. While his two optimal distractions weren’t currently at his disposal, Peter decided on something else. A quick run around the neighborhood should suffice enough to tire himself out and maybe even make himself finally hungry. 

——

Tony sat at his desk, fingers tangled into his hair. No matter how much he tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him, he couldn’t. The mobster was at a loss without the younger man’s presence. The house was much too large and empty, quiet and no longer inviting. Meals were motions and his bed was large and cold. Setting his pen down, he let out a heavy sigh. What he wouldn’t give for Peter to barge into his office right now.

“It’s for the best, Tony. Just a few more days.” He mumbled to himself, eyeing the glass of whiskey at the corner of his desk. Grabbing it and downing its contents, he welcomed the pleasant burn. At least he had one familiar feeling still. Leaning back into his seat, Tony let his body relax. Somewhat at least. He was exhausted, finding himself having a difficult time getting a good night's rest. Between the lack of sleep and his nonstop thinking, he knew he wouldn’t get much work done. 

Wandering the empty halls, he tried to preoccupy his mind the best he could. Yet every thought always led back to Peter. Giving in and grabbing his phone from his pocket, he sent the younger man a text. 

 

How you holding up, kid?

No response. Maybe he was sleeping or in the shower? He was okay though, he had to be. Tony could feel anxious thoughts creeping into his mind. Shaking it off the best he could, he forced himself to change and jog down to his gym. Just like the rest of the house, it was too quiet and empty without Peter. Turning on loud music through the speakers, he forced the thoughts of the younger male out of his mind. 

——

Peter stepped out of the shower, towel loosely hanging onto his hips. The run had done its job in tiring himself out as well as getting his mind off everything. Running a hand through his still damp hair, the young man picked up his forgotten phone from his bed. Tony’s name lit up the screen. Great. Of course when he has just gotten more or less over being away from the mobster, here he was. The text was from almost an hour ago. Eyes scanning the words, a soft smile tugged at his lips. 

I’m hanging in there. You?

It was like sending a risky text to your crush. Peter could feel his heart race as he pressed send, quickly tossing the phone onto his bed. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one thinking about the other person, but it made his heart ache. He just wanted to curl up in bed with Tony. Changing into soft, comfortable sweats and a shirt he managed to take from the other man, Peter took a deep breath of the familiar scent. 

Deciding to order himself some pizza from a local pizza place that was still open for a late dinner, he sank into his couch. It took a bit, but his phone soon buzzed with Tony’s name on the screen. 

Same. Just thought I would check in. 

Peter let himself smile, rereading the text a couple times before replying. 

Thanks, Tony. That means a lot to me. 

The two men exchanged texts through the evening and well into the late night hours. It was nice to hear from one another. At some point in time they both dozed off, relishing in their messages. Tony was curled in the center of his large bed, phone tucked into his hand; Peter hugged one of his many pillows, a soft smile on his lips. 

Between the daily runs and texts he received from Tony, Peter felt mostly better. Part of him still craved the high that the pills gave him, but at least now he had something else to focus on. For the time being at least. Sometimes out of boredom he would send Tony awkward selfies, or even just silly little jokes and comments while he was busy. It was a good mood lightener. 

When late night came along and Peter kept finding himself thinking of Tony’s touch on him, he sent a rather dirty text. It evolved into an explicit conversation between the two of them, ending with both of them naked and moaning out the other’s name. Even apart they couldn’t keep themselves away from the other, even if just the messages and their own hand. They were both addicted. 

—-

Ten days. Ten days without the other man. Peter found the days passing quickly, but he still greatly missed him. He managed and pushed through it all. The cravings and the heartache. 

It was on the tenth day that he rounded the corner to his street, sweaty and out of breath from his run, that he saw the familiar car parked in front of his building. Standing outside, leaning against its passenger door, was Steve. Smiling, the young man promptly ran towards the front door. 

“Hey, Steve!”

The other man gave him a small wave. “He’s inside. Went to wait for you to get back and bring you home.”

Home. The word was warm and familiar, making his heart skip a beat. Nodding a thanks, he quickly ran inside, repeatedly pressing the button on the elevator until the doors opened. Unlocking his door, he practically ran inside. 

“Tony!” Peter was prepared for an equally cheerful greeting, but instead found himself facing Tony’s muscular back. His muscles were tense under the expensive suit, his eyes facing outside one of the large windows. 

“Peter.” He turned to face the younger man, something in his hands. At first Peter thought nothing of it, but when he realized what it was, his heart stopped. The first photo he had ever gotten of the older man. A mess of words began to spill from his lips, his mind racing to try and explain it and the box Tony had found it in. 

“It’s not what it looks like. I swear- I- I was just trying-“

“Not what it looks like? So you’re saying this isn’t a box of rather incriminating things? I trusted you, Peter.” He spat out the younger man’s name like poison. Peter could feel his stomach lurch at how hurt and broken he sounded. 

“Tony, I swear. I-I was just scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen! Honestly thought I would be dead by now. Look, it’s all old though. I stopped, swear. I just needed a safe way to get rid of it all.” Peter’s words were rushed and stumbled over one another. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until salty tears slid over pale lips when he spoke. 

Tony’s gaze was hard and unforgiving. Tossing the photo onto the desk, he shook his head. “You still had intentions to betray me.” Not giving the younger man a chance to respond, he shoved past him and out the door. 

“Tony!” Looking back at the box and after the other man, he sighed and ran after him. Endless apologies and explanations fell on deaf ears as he chased after him. Stopping at the front door to the building, the mob boss shook his head. 

“Stop. You’re only embarrassing yourself.” Pushing the door open, he waved at Steve to start the car. “I’m leaving. I’m done.”

Peter’s steps faltered as he shook his head. He refused to give up. Not this easily. “Tony, please. Just listen to me.” He didn’t have a chance to think or keep talking, the sudden sound of car tires peeling out cutting Peter off. 

Everything happened too fast for anyone to process. A window was lowered down in the speeding car, a gun making an appearance. Loud gunshots echoed around them before the car sped off. Steve was caught between chasing them and making sure the other two men were okay. Peter had reacted as quickly as he could, sprinting to Tony and grabbing him, pulling him down to the ground. 

“Tony? Tony, please be okay.” Peter was afraid to open his eyes, but movement beside him shoved most of the fear away. Looking over at Tony, the older man looked right back at him. Peter let out a silent sigh of relief. “Are you okay?” 

“I think so.” The nod Tony gave him was a gentle reassurance. It wasn’t until Peter noticed blood staining Tony’s expensive suit that the world began to catch up to him. Shaking his head, he pressed his hands into Tony’s side, blood staining his hands. 

“No. No no no.” He felt like he was going to be sick. Lost in his own worry and fear of Tony being hurt, not once did he realize that it wasn’t his blood. 

“Peter, stay still. Oh god, why did you fucking do that? You should’ve just worried about yourself!” Panic laced each of Tony’s words as he spoke. Peter looked at him confused, trying to sit up. 

“What’s gotten-“ A sharp pain shot through Peter’s abdomen, causing him to cry out. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, numbing his body. Trembling hands pressed into his torso, warm blood seeping through his hoodie and between his fingers. It wasn’t Tony’s blood. It was his own. Color began to drain from his face as the realization dawned on him. 

“Start the car!” Tony screamed at Steve as he took his jacket off. “Come on, kid. Just stay with me.” He pressed the expensive material against the wound, his breath shaky. “We’re going to get you help. Put pressure here.” Grabbing Peter’s hands in his own, he pressed them into the jacket before standing up, scooping the younger man into his arms. The car roared to life as Tony sat Peter down inside, running to get in on the other side. He barely had time to get the door closed before Steve sped off. 

“What about the people?” Steve glanced at Tony in the rearview mirror as he drove. The older male had Peter tucked into his lap, speaking softly to him as he tried to at least slow the bleeding. 

“When we get to the hospital, put a distress call out. Get every single fucking guy we have looking. Tell them one of our own has been hurt.” Tony’s words wavered as he gave direction, the sight of a bloodied Peter in his lap breaking his heart. What had he done? 

Peter looked up at him with tear filled brown eyes, normally so full of life, but now with terror. Skin paled as he shivered. “Tony. It hurts…” the young man sobbed, his torso on fire, the rest of his body cold. Tony placed a bloody hand on his cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Oh how ironic. Weeks ago the handprint was on his own face, marking the beginning of a new era between them. Now the single one on pale skin marked a potential end. 

“It’ll be okay, kid. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, evil mastermind with the cliffhanger there. I already started the next chapter, so I promise to (hopefully) not take as long to post my next update. As always, thank y’all for all of the support!!


	12. Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony breaks down and Peter ends up in the hospital with potentially life altering injuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so, so sorry I’ve been taking forever to update. Life’s been crazy and keeping me busy. Thanks for being patient and I hope you all enjoy!

As soon as they pulled up to the emergency room, Tony was flying out of the car, not waiting for it to come to a complete stop. He carefully carried Peter inside, trying his best to maintain his composure, but as Peter let out a soft cry of pain from the movements, he broke. The man that had taken several of his own bullets; the man who had several of his men lose their lives; the man who could hold a poker face better than the devil himself; that man let it all drop. 

“Help, please help! He’s been shot!” The older man cried out, desperate and broken. Nurses and doctors promptly ran towards him, questions and words surrounding him as they did. It was too loud and everything began to blend together. As a stretcher was brought out, he hesitated to hand over the younger man. 

“I want the best doctors and nurses on him, now!” His grip tightened on Peter, the younger man clinging with a weak hand to his shoulder, the other pressed into the jacket. Looking down at him, Peter met his gaze. His big brown eyes were wet and hurt, struggling to stay open. Tony felt his heart ache. 

“Sir, please. You have to let us take him, he could die!” One of the nurses, a woman with bright red hair, practically begged Tony. “His vitals are declining, we need to get him into surgery! He’s lost a lot of blood and we don’t know if any vital organs were hit or not.”

The thought of possibly losing Peter made Tony hold him even closer. A sudden, strong hand on his shoulder made him jump before he realized it was Steve. His blue eyes met his brown ones as he gave him a nod of encouragement. “Let them help Peter. I’ll place some calls.”

Tony could feel tears tugging at the back of his eyes. Nodding, he choked out a soft ‘okay’ before gently laying Peter on the stretcher. Steve was on the phone, already making generous donations to get the best doctors and nurses in, as well as Tony well past the normal barriers. The moment the young man was handed over, the doctors began to run down the halls, shouting between one another as they checked vitals. Tony wasn’t far behind, refusing to leave. It wasn’t until they were at the operating room doors that he was turned away and forced to the waiting room. 

Pacing the small room, Tony continuously fidgeted with his hair and clothes. Steve had managed to get him a personal waiting room as well as two of his men posted at the door. He also had the town being torn apart in search of the people responsible. Tony wanted them brought in alive to him. He was going to take care of them. Personally. 

Lost in his thoughts, Tony didn’t hear anything Steve was saying until an empty coffee cup was flying past him. Jumping out of his skin, the man quickly turned his attention to his bodyguard. “What was that for?”

Steve let out a soft sigh, standing up from his seat. “Maybe you should go home for a bit, boss. Change and shower. Peter still has at least an hour or so in surgery, then he’ll be in recovery for a couple more. You’ve done all that you can.”

Steve was right, but Tony wouldn’t ever say that out loud. He had blood on his hands and clothes. Peter’s blood. If anything happened, it was all on him. Shaking his head, Tony once again messed with his cufflinks. “I have to be here. Just in case. Anything can happen and I need to be here. I’m the reason he’s in here..” his voice trailed off. 

Steve let out a soft sigh, knowing he was on the losing side of this battle. “Let me at least get you some clean clothes. I’ll get you and Peter a private recovery room so you can shower in there.” 

Tony hesitated, but nodded a silent okay. He watched as the other man left the room, whispering something to the two guards before leaving all together. Exhausted in every way possible, the mobster fell back into one of the plush armchairs. What was supposed to be a great day had sure taken a sharp turn. Maybe he should’ve just given Peter a chance to explain himself inside. What if he had just sat and waited instead of being nosy? Countless what ifs ran through his tired mind, but in the end, he was still in the hospital. 

Hours passed. Maybe? Was it hours or did it only feel that way? Steve had returned with a duffle bag of clothes and toiletries, trying to make small talk with Tony to try and distract him. It only half worked, Tony’s mind engulfing itself in its own thoughts. The door opening made the man jump to his feet, both from surprise and anticipation. 

The doctor wore a set of dark blue scrubs, black hair slicked back to reveal graying sides. “Mr. Stark. I’m Dr. Stephen Strange. First off, let me thank you for the gracious donation made to the hospital.” Tony waived if all off, shaking his head. 

“Yea, yea. No problem, whatever. What about Peter? Is he going to be okay?” 

The other man sighed and looked down briefly. “Luckily, the bullet missed any vital organs it could’ve hit. It did some damage, but we were able to fix it and with some blood transfusions, Mr. Parker is stable. He’s not out of the woods, however, he has a long way to heal. He’s still critical, but I’m sure he’ll recover for the most part.”

The end of his sentence caught Tony’s attention. “Most part? What do you mean ‘most part?’” 

“Well, the bullet grazed his lower spinal cord.” Holding up his hands, he spoke quickly, not letting Tony interrupt. “It wasn’t anything major, but at this point there’s no telling how it’s going to affect him. We have to wait for him to wake up before we can access the damage. His reflexes seemed to hold up, but there’s no promises as to whether or not he might have some issues.”

Tony felt his legs buckle under him. Steve, moving quickly, caught him, helping him sit in the nearest seat. Burying his face into his hands, he let out a choked out, broken cry. Stephen gave him a moment to process before speaking again. 

“Chances are high that he’ll make a full recovery, we just have to account for any possible contingencies. For now I’m going to get you into his recovery room, I recommend you shower. He could be up in as soon as an hour and waking up to a bloody friend might send him into a panic.” His voice was soft, pausing when he was done before starting towards the door. 

Tony hesitated before standing up, Steve placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. The small group of men moved quietly through the hospital halls, Tony still trying to process everything. The few words Stephen spoke sounded too far and he just wanted to be alone. Soon enough he had his wish, standing in the middle of a large recovery room, one wall nothing more than a giant window. His two men stood guard at the door, Steve giving him some space and going up to the cafeteria. 

All the medical equipment beside the hospital bed made his stomach tighten. It was empty for the time being, but the thought of Peter in it made tears sting at his eyes. 

Making sure the curtain over the glass wall was closed, Tony disappeared into the bathroom. Showering, he sighed as he watched the blood rush down the drain. A few tears escaped down his cheeks, Tony finally giving in to his heartache. Silently crying, jaw clenched, he scrubbed at his skin until it was red and raw, desperate to remove the feeling of Peter’s blood on his skin. It wasn’t until even the hot water made his skin sting that he finally stepped out and carefully dressed himself. 

Part of him didn’t want to step out. He didn’t want to see Peter hooked up to the machines. If he couldn’t see it, it wasn’t real. Right? After a few moments, he finally opened the door and just about collapsed, his knees weak. Clasping a hand over his mouth, he stifled a soft cry. 

Peter’s hair stood up in multiple directions, his skin unnaturally pale. A soft red tinted his cheeks, the only sign that he was alive. Tubes went up his nose, making his chest rise and fall with each breath. Wires from ivs and monitors made him look more machine than human. The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the silence around him, echoing around the room. 

Tony took a shaky breath that rattled his entire body. He wanted to cry. To scream. To yell at whoever was in the sky above him listening. Yet, he didn’t. Instead he sat at Peter’s bedside, taking one of his hands on his own and waited. 

Two hours and fifteen minutes passed. Steve was in and out, attempting to get Tony to eat or drink something. He didn’t. He sat and spoke softly to the younger man, refusing to release his hand. Soft apologies fell on sleeping ears, a nurse occasionally interrupting to make sure everything was going well. 

Tony had started to doze off at some point, not even realizing it until he heard his name spoken so softly he thought it was his imagination. 

“Tony?” Peter’s soft eyes fluttered open, a gentle squeeze to the older man’s hands reassuring him it was in fact real. 

“Peter. I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” Tony brought his hand up to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to his knuckles. 

“Tony, it’s okay. Really, it wasn’t your fault. Now get up here and kiss me. I’ve missed you.”


	13. Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to fall into place, the pieces slowly fitting together. Peter and Tony take time to get closer while Steve does damage control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and happiness for our boys, this chapter made me happy. As always, thanks for all the support, I love reading your comments and they never fail to make my day! I hope y’all enjoy!

Tony kissed Peter so hard it showed as a spike on his heart monitor. Within moments a nurse and doctor were in, checking on him. When they discovered the young man was awake, more doctors and nurses filed in, checking different things and asking too many questions. Peter didn’t like it, holding Tony’s hand tightly as he was interrogated. Could he feel this? Could he do that? 

At some point, they all left and Dr. Strange walked in. Tony knew what he was there to check and it made his heart skip a beat. Now was the moment of truth. 

“Mr. Parker, I’m Doctor Stephen Strange. I’m who operated on you and helped make sure you stayed with us.” He grabbed a nearby rolling chair, taking a seat near the foot of his bed. 

“Thank you, doc. Really, you saved me.” Peter’s voice was soft and hoarse, his hand curling into Tony’s. 

“Just doing my job. Now, I expect you to make a full recovery. You’ve done perfectly up to this point, but we have one small concern.” He spoke softly, his eyes falling to Peter’s blanket covered legs. 

“Concern?” A tinge of panic spiked through the young man, Tony quickly speaking soft words of comfort to him as he pressed his lips to Peter’s knuckles. 

“Yes. Luckily, the bullet missed your vital organs and you will recover just fine, but at some point it grazed against your lower spine. It looks like there’s no major damage done, but there’s still a small possibility that while not visible, the damage is done.” Doctor Strange spoke softly, his hands moving slightly as he did. 

“Meaning?” Peter felt his heart sinking. 

“Meaning there’s a chance you’ll never walk again. Since your injury is still fresh, to prevent any further possible damage, we will have to wait until tomorrow morning to see for sure. We’ll run some X-rays, then go from there. Maybe a ct scan as well, but for now you need your rest. I’ll get you a room, let us know if you need anything.” With that, he left the two men alone for the time being. 

Peter stared up at the ceiling, silent. Tears rolled softly down his cheeks, his body shaking with each sob. Tony watched, completely helpless. Bringing Peter’s hand to his chest, he shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to get hurt..”

Peter turned slightly to look up at the older man. “It’s not your fault, Tony. You didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“It is my fault. This is exactly what I was trying to protect you from. I shouldn’t have let you get involved in my mess.”

Peter squeezed his hand, shaking his head the best he could with the oxygen tube. “It’s our mess. Not yours. I know what’s possible, I know how fast it all could change, but I stayed. I’m more scared of losing you then of getting hurt, Tony. Risks and all, even when all this is said and done, you know I’ll be by your side.”

Tony couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “I knew you were the best, Peter.” Leaning over the younger man, he pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. 

——

Within the next thirty minutes Peter was very carefully taken upstairs to his room, Tony at his side until he had to step back for him to be transferred to the new bed. It was large and plush, the blue sheets and bed rails with buttons the only reminder it was a hospital bed. Though, much to his dismay, the doctors told Peter to leave the buttons alone, warning that sitting up would only prolong his healing. 

The room itself was almost hotel like, Peter in awe at what he could see. The floor was still the dull tile and walls blinding white, but curtains, wall decor, an armchair and even a couch, gave it all life. The counter full of balloons and flowers, all from Tony, gave it color and hope. Made things more comfortable. Steve had taken a spot on the couch, Tony taking to the armchair at Peter’s bedside. 

“Nice room you got us, Steve.” Tony praised his bodyguard, getting comfortable in his seat. 

“Yea, yea. Only the best for you.” He smirked, rolling his eyes. “Peter’s going to be here for a few days, so I made sure you two would be comfortable. Best they had, just took some prying to get you here.” 

“Thanks, Steve.” Peter chimed in, wishing he could look at him when he spoke. 

“Don’t mention it.” Standing up, he stretched with a groan. “I’m gonna head out for the day. Make sure everything’s going smooth, boss. I’ll drop by tomorrow to check in.”

Tony nodded, kicking off his shoes. “Thanks again, Steve. Really. You’ve done a lot for us today. Let me know if anything happens.”

The evening dragged into night, the tv providing a soft background noise as Peter and Tony spoke and caught up. Periodically a nurse dropped in, checking on the younger man before leaving, at some point one even left a meal behind. With some light coaxing, Peter managed to convince Tony to eat at least half the plate before setting it aside. 

As later hours carried on, Tony climbed into Peter’s large bed. Each movement was careful and followed by reassurance that all was okay until he was comfortable at his lover’s side. While in a perfect world, they would be able to be in each other’s arms, Peter’s injuries prevented it. But with enough space between the two men for their hands to tangle together, they drifted off to sleep.

At eight a.m. they were woken up, Peter being wheeled out for X-rays while Tony washed up and ate half the breakfast Steve brought in. No one had been caught as of yet, but they had leads. It was progress at least. Steve tried to encourage Tony to finish his meal, but after almost an hour of back and forth, he settled for half. 

The mob boss was all nerves, pacing and fidgeting around the room. Steve tried to distract him, though he knew the older man wouldn’t be at ease until he knew Peter was okay. Giving into the battle and taking his loss, he at least provided company and small talk. 

It took almost two hours for Peter to be returned to his room, covered with a soft blanket, Dr. Strange at his bedside. In his hands was a tan file, a stern look on his face. Tony took a steadying breath, taking to Peter’s side, carefully sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“Well?” Tony coaxed the doctor, unable to bare the silence any longer. Taking Peter’s hand into his own, he could feel the tension in the younger boy’s body. 

Without a word, Dr. Strange walked up to a small box mounted on the wall. Flipping a switch, it lit up as he placed a black film over it. An image lit up of a spine. Of Peter’s spine. Turning to face the two men, he pointed at the lower portion of the image. 

“Good news, the damage is absolutely minimal. Nothing major, nothing fractured, or torn.” 

Tony let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, looking down at Peter with a smile. The younger male returned it, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. Maybe all would be well after all. 

“However. There was still some very light damage. Shouldn’t be anything major, maybe some occasional numbness or tingling, but otherwise you should heal just fine, Mr. Parker.” Taking a few steps towards the other two men, Dr. Strange crossed his arms. “You got very lucky, your injuries through this whole ordeal were minimal. You should be able to go home in a few days, as long as you keep any physical activity to a minimum. Tomorrow I’ll be by to check on you and see how you’re healing, maybe we can have you up and moving around within the next couple days.”

Tony gently brushed his thumb along Peter’s knuckles, nodding as he listened. “Thank you, doc. Really. I’ll never be able to repay you for all you’ve done.”

Chuckling softly, the doctor shook his head. “Just doing my job. I’ll leave you to rest now.”

Steve hopped up from where he sat, placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I’m glad everything’s looking up.” His blue eyes met with Tony’s. “In more ways than one.” 

Tony clenched his jaw, letting the words of his bodyguard sink in. 

“I have some business to attend to.” He gave a gentle nod to his boss who simply nodded in return. 

“Let me know how it all goes.”

—- 

With nothing but time and bed rest on the table, Tony and Peter talked and laughed. With the storm settling around them, they were finally able to talk about what had happened and why Tony pushed Peter away. Why he did what he did and Peter was able to explain the box he had found. 

The mob boss felt guilty for pointing fingers and flying off the handle, but with endless reassurance from Peter, he finally calmed down. He couldn’t blame the younger man, at first things had to have been rough and terrifying for him. They didn’t know it was going to end like this. All he was trying to do was cope and survive. Now they had one another and they’re unexpected relationship. 

Tony moved throughout the room, antsy about being in one place, but glad to see Peter doing better. They shared gentle kisses and Tony put on Peter’s favorite movies to play in the background. At one point his phone buzzed, two words lighting up the screen under Steve’s name. 

Found them. 

Maybe things would go in their favor after all. 

—-

Five days. Peter spent five days in the hospital, Tony refusing to leave his side the entire time. Steve came in and out, bringing them food, movies, books, and clothes. Whatever helped their time there pass easier. He handled the business while the two bosses were occupied, making sure to keep their special guests comfortable. Not that Peter knew about that part. 

By day tree, Peter was relieved to finally be able to sit up, having gotten tired of staring at the ceiling. They were even able to convince the nurses to let Tony push him around in a wheelchair as long as he didn’t get up from it. With laughter filling the halls around them, the older man pushed Peter quickly up and down the halls, hopping on the back as they wheeled around.

After being chastised about safety by the nurses, Tony snuck them out to the courtyard. Seeing Peter enjoy the warmth of the sun and fresh air, the way the sun made his pale skin glow, it all made Tony’s heart skip a beat. Just a few days ago he was scared he was going to lose him in the worst way possible. Now he got to watch him enjoy the simple things life had to offer. Even if the situation wasn’t ideal in any shape, way, or form, it was nice to be able to sit and enjoy everything for a while. To let their hearts entwine. 

While locked up in the room, they were able to talk and laugh. To share dreams and fears, awkward quirks and guilty pleasures. All the small and simple things they had never spoken aloud before. All the things Tony had kept himself too busy to share. Not anymore. Almost losing Peter made him realize he couldn’t risk that. Not again. He wasn’t doing any favors trying to keep him at arm's length. They were in this. Together. 

Day four they helped Peter out of bed on his own two feet, and while at first he was sore and everything hurt, he pushed through it all. The first thing he did was give Tony a big hug and make him promise to never push him away again. Tony was more than happy to oblige. That night, they slowly moved around the room, Tony’s strong arm around Peter’s slender waist, guiding him carefully. Leaning into his support, the young man looked up at his lover, smiling to himself. Who would’ve thought such a big, bad mob boss could be so gentle and caring?

On day five, Steve had the car ready and waiting for the two men. With the paperwork signed and prescriptions made, Tony wheeled Peter out the hospital and helped him into the car. With the nightmare behind them, Peter rested his head on Tony’s shoulder as Steve drove. 

“It’s time to go home. For good this time. No more loft, no more separate rooms. We’re in this together now, kid. No more trying to keep a space between us.” Tony spoke softly, feeling Peter’s fingers entwine with his own. 

“Home. I like the sound of that.” Peter’s voice was barely a whisper, almost as if he were afraid to shatter some unknown dream.


	14. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s finally home, safe and in Tony’s arms. Meanwhile, back in the place where it all started, Tony let’s his anger take him over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brings dark!Tony back and it was quiet fun writing. I hope y’all enjoy!! As always thanks for the comments and kudos and all the love!!

Peter whined, fussed, argued, and pouted. He did just about everything minus throwing himself to the ground and throwing an actual tantrum. He didn’t want to stay in bed, didn’t want to be locked up in the room. He wanted to help Tony with whatever business he had to attend to. Yet, the older man stood his ground, despite actually feeling kind of bad. Peter had already been under room arrest for almost a week, but he had to heal. 

“Doctor’s orders, Peter. You have to keep the physical activity to a minimum. You can move around the room, do whatever, but don’t push yourself.” Tony's voice was stern as he placed a tablet, laptop, and a couple of books on his large bed for Peter. The younger man huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Fine.” He pouted. Tony couldn’t help the eyeroll, leaning in to kiss him gently. 

“Come on, let me see that sweet little smile of yours.” His words were soft, lips brushing against Peter’s witch each small movement. The younger man couldn’t resist the small smile, leaning in for another kiss. With a soft groan, a few moments later Tony pulled away. “I’ll be back in a bit. Promise. If you need anything, let me know or the guys at the door. They’ll get you meals or water or whatever your heart desires.”

Peter crossed his arms. “I’m a grown adult, you do know that, right? I don’t need a babysitter.”

Tony sighed, standing up as he adjusted his tie. “I know, but it’s just temporary. I need to make sure you’re safe.” 

Peter looked up at him with soft, brown eyes. He settled into his throne of pillows and blankets, making himself comfortable. 

“Well, you stay safe too. Okay?”

Tony gave him a gentle smile. “Always am. Now get some rest.” With that, the mobster closed the bedroom door behind him, nodding at the two men who stood guard. “Don’t let him leave the room and get him anything he asks for. If anything happens to him while I’m gone, I’ll have your heads.”

Steve stood at the top of the staircase, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Shaking his head, he pushed away and began down the steps, Tony at his heels. 

“How’s Peter doing?” The bodyguard asked as he continued down the steps. 

“Sore. Upset I won’t let him roam and join me, but I need to make sure he’s well enough before I let him come with me.” Tony sighed, turning down the staircase that led to the basement. “So, for the time being I’ll give the guests their housewarming gifts. Then when Peter’s better, I’ll let him give them the surprise.”

Steve nodded at the guards by the door, pulling a key out his pocket. “You sure the kid’s going to be fine making a decision like that?”

Tony shrugged. “That’s why he has a choice. I’ll punish them, he can pass their judgment in the end. I promised he would be by my side and there would be no more secrets, so what better way to introduce him fully to my world?”

Steve seemed to think for a moment before half shrugging. “Well, you’re not wrong.” Opening the door, the two men began down one more set of steps. 

The basement was dark, the only source of a light coming from a bright lamp at the bottom of the staircase. Two men looked up from where they were bound to their chairs, the sound of footsteps gaining their attention. Each of them were blindfolded, duct tape over their mouths, and rope tied just a touch too tightly around their wrists and ankles. Tony gestured for Steve to continue forward, staying back. 

Steve moved forward, tugging the blindfolds off, followed by the duct tape. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. The boss is here, as promised.”

The two men seemed unsettled, shifting as they looked over Tony’s darkened silhouette against the light. 

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to keep you two waiting, but I had much more important business to attend to. The business being my partner, who I hold dearly in my heart, being hospitalized. I wonder who’s fault that was.” Anger boiled through his veins as he stepped forward, hands tucked behind his back. The two men looked up at him, silent and holding their composure. Yet, the fear burning in their eyes betrayed them. 

“So, I must ask. Who gave you the orders for the drive by?” Tony crouched down in front of the two men, pressing his hands together in front of his mouth. They stared at him but didn’t say a thing. They didn’t even seem to move one bit, as if they were afraid to. After a few moments, he stood up with a sigh. 

“Guess we do this the hard way.” Tony began to remove his jacket and tie, handing them Steve, who was patiently waiting at his side. “Bring me the rings.” Rolling up his sleeves over his forearms, Tony held a stern gaze with the two men. 

Setting Tony’s clothing on a table closer towards the stairs, Steve grabbed a glossy box, opening it and showing its contents to Tony. The mob boss reached in, pulling out a set of several large rings one by one. Slipping them onto his right hand, he waved Steve away. The bodyguard closed the box, stepping out of the way, waiting patiently.

Pacing in front of the two men, Tony made sure the let the light catch each ring. Idly running his fingers along the rings, he spoke again. “I’ll ask you one more time. Who ordered the drive by?” The two men glanced at each other, but still said nothing. 

Tony let out an annoyed sigh. “So be it.”

Pulling his arm back, Tony swung at one of the men, the rings biting harshly into his skin. Blood stained his knuckles and the metal, but he didn’t stop. Turning his attention towards the other man, he mirrored his actions. They both cried out, blood dripping down from busted lips and broken noses. 

“Again. Who ordered the drive by?”

One of the men spat out a mouthful of blood. “Like we would ever tell you.”

Shrugging, Tony continued his assault. Cries of pain echoed around him, blood splattering around the ground as well as on Tony. Breathing heavily, he took the rings off, tossing them over to Steve. The two men sat there, bloodied and helpless. 

“Our boss. Our boss gave the orders. We call him Thanos. The one who betrayed you. S-said you took one of his men, so he wanted to return the favor.” The man to Tony’s right spoke, each word pained. “Please, no more..”

Smirking, he crouched back down in front of the men. “You know, I always get what I want in the end. However, I want more then who gave the orders, but I do appreciate it. Now I know who to really go after, but the fun is really just beginning for me. Do you know how it feels to hold a loved one in your arms, watching their life slip away?” 

Reaching to his side, Tony tugged a knife from the waistband of his slacks. “Do you know how much it hurts to have their blood literally on your hands? To sit in the hospital and not know if they’re going to make it?”

Raising his hand, he pressed the sharpened edge of the steel blade into the man that spoke throat. The man whimpered softly, raising his head slightly in hopes to back away from the blade. 

“Well do you?” 

Both men shook their heads, terror in their eyes as Tony’s filled with rage. “I had to sit there and hope he would come out of that room alive. Wait to hear his fate. There was a chance he wouldn’t ever walk again. Do you know how much it hurts to be told someone you care for may never walk again?!” Tony's voice lowers dangerously, thick, gravelly and filled with grave intent. 

Pressing the blade harder into the man’s skin, Tony watched as blood began to drip down his neck. 

“You don’t, do you?! Well you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to make sure you feel every ounce of pain I had to. You’re going to beg me for death, but I’m not that nice. I suffered, so now it’s your turn.” Tony's voice was low and dangerous, his hand dragging the knife down the man’s torso, the blade easily cutting through the material of his shirt, leaving thin lines of blood in its wake. 

Turning his attention to the other man, he dragged the blade down his jaw, an angry red line slowly seeping with blood coming to life. 

“I sat and begged to whoever was listening for him to come out alive. Now, I want to hear you beg. I want to hear you beg for forgiveness!” 

The pressure behind the blade grew harder as he dragged it further down the man’s body, ripping through his shirt just as easily as he did the previous. Anything he did to one, he mirrored on the other. Their cries of pain and begging for him to stop fell on deaf ears. They almost cost him Peter. The young man suffered. Seeing Peter in that hospital bed killed him. It was their fault. Now it was their turn. 

It was almost an hour later when Tony decided he was done for the day. He promised to return tomorrow before heading upstairs, giving Steve orders to make sure they didn’t bleed out and to clean up. He wasn’t done with them quiet yet. Peter’s suffering lasted days and was still carrying on, so it was only fair theirs did too. He wanted them kept alive until his little plan could come to fruition. Then it would all end for them. 

Quietly sneaking into his room, Tony was glad to find Peter asleep, curled into the blankets and pillows. Holding his breath as he shut the door, he slipped his way into the bathroom. Not bothering to lock the door, he didn’t hesitate to turn on the water and strip down before stepping in. The last thing he needed were the questions he knew the younger man would have for him. 

Closing his eyes, Tony let his head fall back as the water rushed down his body, falling to his skin clear, swirling pink around his feet. Somewhere, deep down, he knew hurting the men wouldn’t do much for what Peter felt. It wouldn’t take away his pain and it wouldn’t erase what had happened, but it felt good. It felt good to be in charge and showing who was king around here. To show just what happened when you fucked with someone he cared so deeply for. Looking down with a soft sigh, he watched as the water slowly faded from pink to clear. 

Soft, pattering footsteps pulled his mind from his thoughts, his eyes trying to focus through the fogged glass. The gentle, blurred silhouette of Peter slowly moved closer until the door opened, steam swirling around his pale body. Holding a hand out, Tony gently grasped Peter’s arm, guiding him inside. 

“You shouldn’t be moving too much.” Tony chastised the younger male, tugging him gently under the stream of water. 

“I’m not. I’ve been in bed since you put me there, minus when I got up cause I got a cramp. Besides, I think this is worth any potential risks.” Peter smiled a cheeky grin, resting his chin on Tony’s chest so that he could gaze up admiringly at the older male. 

“Well, I guess that’s fair. Let’s get cleaned up and ready for bed, I’ve missed being able to properly have you in my arms.” Tony’s muscular arms slid around Peter’s slim waist, pulling them flush against one another. 

Peter mumbled something, but didn’t give time for Tony to ask what it was before his lips were against his own. Letting out a surprised groan of delight, Tony let his eyes fall shut as he returned the kiss. It started gentle and soft, as if simply trying to remember the feeling of the other, but it was quick to become rougher and needier, gentle nips and bites tugging at lips and skin. 

“I don’t think this counts as keep physical activity to a minimum.” Tony panted softly as Peter abused a sensitive spot on his neck. 

“Mmm, only if I move too much?” It was more of a question then a statement, Tony trying to take a step back. 

“I’m afraid to hurt you.” Tony’s words were soft, his thumbs brushing gently along Peter’s hip bones. He couldn’t hurt Peter. Not again. 

“I’m not some doll, Tony. You won’t break me, besides it’s been a few days.” Peter gently pressed his palms against Tony’s chest, feeling the rapid heart beat under his fingers.

“I know, I know. Just. Maybe give it a little more time? At least another day or two, I mean you just got out.” Tony's thumb brushed ever so gently along the healing scars along Peter’s torso. The younger man let out a soft sigh, but pressed a gentle kiss to Tony’s lips before giving in. 

“Fine. Only because I don’t want to end up stuck at the hospital again. Now let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. I just wanna feel your arms around me again.” 

Tony smiled, glad to finally have gotten through to Peter about his well being. With one final kiss, the two began to shower between gentle kisses and caresses. 

That night, Tony held Peter as close as he comfortably could. The two slept calmly and peacefully, finally able to feel one another once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also find me on [ tumblr ](https://theheartwillshipon.tumblr.com)


	15. Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being back home isn’t exactly the happy homecoming Peter was hoping for. It’s wearing him down and it’s up to Tony to help him feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for taking forever everyone, things have been a little hectic in life. I’m still alive and kicking and I’m still writing. I hope y’all enjoy and as always thanks for the support!

Peter woke up that morning to several soft kisses and a delicious breakfast in bed. It was nice, especially after almost a week in the hospital. Leaning his head on Tony’s shoulder, Peter’s slender fingers gently traced the outline of muscles on Tony’s forearm as he listened to the older man speak.

“I have a couple meetings to attend this afternoon, but I should be back before late. We’ll have a nice dinner downstairs, then I have some paperwork to do upstairs. While you do need your rest, I wouldn’t mind company if you wish to join me in the office.” Tony’s voice was soft, a newspaper in the hand that Peter wasn’t holding hostage. 

Peter only half listened, his mind wandering off on its own thought path as he idly moved his fingers. It took a brief moment, but he followed Tony’s words with a gentle nod. 

“Sounds good. It’ll be nice to get out of bed.” 

A strong finger under his chin made Peter look up, his brown eyes meeting Tony’s. Smiling softly, not able to resist, he pressed a deep kiss to Tony’s lips. Their lips moved in a gentle dance, soft sighs of delight filling the room. With strong hands and a quick shift, Peter was straddling the older man’s lap, hands grasping at strong shoulders. 

Just as hands began to roam, Tony’s phone buzzed loudly against the nightstand. When it didn’t stop, Tony let out a soft groan before pulling away. Peter simply continued, letting his lips travel along Tony’s jaw and down his neck. 

“Hello?” The older man huffed breathlessly into the phone, his fingers digging gently into Peter’s hip. Biting his bottom lip, he struggled to focus his attention on the conversation as the younger man on his lap began to abuse the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Sure thing, S-Steve..” Tony stuttered as he spoke. 

Peter smirked, biting and sucking down on his favorite spot, making sure to leave a nice, dark spot. He could feel Tony’s cock hardening under him, his own reacting to the friction and sounds the mobster made. The soft gasps and growls as he struggled desperately to keep his composure. 

“Yea. Yea. I’ll be there in a bit. Bye.” Tony all but slammed the phone down on his nightstand, hands moving to grab large handfuls of Peter’s ass. “You little fucking tease. I swear, you’re going to get it tonight.”

Peter gasped, a soft whine slipping from parted lips. “Why not now, Mr. Stark?” Emphasizing his words with a wiggle of his hips, he smirked at Tony’s reactions. 

“Because the people for the first meeting showed up early. Trust me, I want to give you a good spanking, but I can’t. Not now at least.” With one final, rough and deep kiss, Tony slid Peter off his lap before wandering to his closet. 

Peter whined in protest, hating how empty and cold the bed suddenly was without Tony. Though, he did have to admit, watching the hot and bothered mob boss get dressed in a nicely tailored suit, was a nice view. Especially the large bulge in his slacks. Slipping out of bed, Peter sauntered over to Tony, pulling him close by his tie. Smirking, he slowly began to tie the material, letting his fingers brush against Tony’s chest as he adjusted his cufflinks. 

“Then I guess after dinner, I’ll make sure to be ready for dessert?” A cheeky grin tugged at Peter’s kiss bruised lips. 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Tony did his best to keep from taking Peter right there. Injuries or not, he needed to feel the younger man under him again. “After paperwork, but yes. There will be a nice dessert.”

With a kiss goodbye (and a drink of cold water), Tony quickly made his way out the room and out to the factory. 

Left behind, alone, Peter sat down. He partially wanted to drift back to sleep, make time pass by faster, but he knew it wouldn’t come to his mind. It was already buzzing and there was no turning it off. So, he began to pace along the room. Wall to wall, bathroom to window. He hated feeling so isolated. Like he was shut off from the world around him. Sure, he understood that Tony just wanted the best for him, but it drove him insane. 

The hospital was bad enough, but now it had carried over to home. It’s not like he wanted to head down to the gym and jump right in. He just wanted to move around. Sit in the theater room and watch a movie. Walk through the garden and feel the sun on his skin. Anything that wasn’t being confined to a room with two guards that checked on him hourly like a child. It was frustrating. 

Yet, over anything else, it was Tony that got to him the most. He knew the older man cared for him and was now worried and if anything, overprotective, but it was the worried part that got to him. Tony was worried when he wasn’t around and it distracted him. Peter was at home, useless and still healing. He was a burden that could possibly distract Tony and cause him to be injured or something worse. A useless burden that was more of a headache then he was worth. 

Part of him knew he was wrong, knew that he just had to heal and Tony was fine, but Peter still couldn’t shake off the feeling and it got to him more then he would’ve liked to admit. He tried his best to sleep through it, but it still wore him down and he ended up more tired than before he napped. 

Between small naps, Peter idly watched whatever show he could find that piqued his interests until his phone buzzed in the later afternoon hours. 

How you feeling, kid?

Peter smiled softly, sending him a quick, bed headed selfie. 

Bored. I wanna do something. 

Setting his phone down, he stood up with a sigh. Peter knew Tony’s reply would be a protest, telling him to stay in bed and relax instead. But he was tired of being in bed and of relaxing. Instead, he opted to open one of the large windows, a gentle breeze sweeping around him. A gentle buzz pulled his attention from the gardens below. 

I know. I’ll hopefully be home within the next hour. Then we’ll get you out of the room and entertained. 

Peter couldn’t resist the small eye roll as he smiled to himself. 

Guess I can wait. See you soon. 

With the fresh air filling the room, Peter disappeared into the bathroom to wash up. Hopefully tonight he would get to feel Tony again, the thought alone buzzing down his spine and between his legs. 

A long, hot shower was well enjoyed, the young man taking his time to shower and relax. Running a hand through wet curls, Peter let the warm water run down his body, relaxing his tense muscles as the glass around him fogged up. Even after he was well washed, he let the water fall around him until it began to run cooler. Only then did he finally step out, wrapping a towel loosely around his waist. 

Swiping a hand across the large, foggy, mirror, he stared at his reflection. A small, dark bruise was harsh against his pale skin where the iv had made its home in his arm. The beginnings of hand shaped bruises peeked out from the top of the towel clinging to his waist. Yet it wasn’t the bruises that drew brown eyes. It was the pink, shiny, healing scar that caught his attention. 

Carefully and gently, a slender finger traced the healing flesh on his abdomen. It didn’t hurt, but it felt foreign. Like it didn’t belong there. It wasn’t large, but it wasn’t small either, about twice the size of the bullet itself and clashed harshly against his otherwise unmarked skin. The first scar of his new life. It was like a very unwelcome welcoming gift. 

It was wrong how something this size could turn his life upside down and send it down the gutter. At least it felt like it. A single bullet had caused this. Something so small almost ended him and his relationship with Tony. Now it made him a burden until he could heal. Made him useless and isolated. Made him become a distraction for Tony. He hated it. Those people would pay for this. It made his stomach knot up the longer he stared at it, the cold water dripping down his spine from still soaked curls suddenly shocking him back to reality

Drying off, Peter forced himself to look away from his reflection. With a heavy sigh, tears threatening at the back of his eyes, he pushed the bathroom door open to find Tony closing the bedroom door behind him. Clearing his throat, Peter gave the older man a wavering smile. 

“Tony.” His voice was soft and slightly cracked, tired and worn down. 

“Peter, what’s wrong?” The mobster quickly took to his side, unphased by the younger man’s lack of clothing. A gentle hand rested on Peter’s slender waist, the boy avoiding his eyes. 

“Nothing, why? I thought you still had a bit longer up there with the meetings.” Peter tried to talk off any uncertainty. It wasn’t working. 

Tony’s other hand moved up, gently cupping Peter’s face, his thumb brushing along his cheek as he forced him to look at him. “I got out early so I decided to surprise you. Now talk to me, you look like you’re about to cry.”

Peter chewed on his bottom lip, wary of meeting the older man’s eyes, tears beginning to flood his own. 

“I-it’s nothing. Just me being stupid.”

Tony slid his hands down Peter’s shoulders and towards his hips, pressing their foreheads together. “Peter. Please.”

Tears silently began to roll down Peter’s cheeks, a breath shaking through his body as he fought them. “I’m sorry, Tony. I’m sorry I let myself get hurt and I’m sorry I’m just a burden.”

Tony flinched back in shock, quickly pulling Peter’s smaller body into his arms. “Why would you ever think you’re a burden?”

“B-because you worry about me. Y-you shouldn’t have to, I-I should be able to take care of myself.” Slender fingers gently brushed along his healing scar between them, feeling his body tremble with tears as he gave in. 

Expecting Tony to pull away, he was surprised instead with a gentle, but fierce kiss. Melting into the mobster’s arms, the young man grasped desperately at the lapels of his suit, leaning into the kiss. There were no more words, only gentle touches, soft gasps and moans, trailing lips, and shedding clothes. 

It didn’t take much time until Peter was under Tony in the center of the large, plush bed, both men naked and panting softly. 

“Peter, don’t you ever think you’re a burden to me. You’re the furthest thing from that. You got hurt and it isn’t your fault and I can’t help but worry, because I care.” Tony's voice was soft, his brown eyes meeting Peter’s own. 

A soft smile tugged at Peter’s rosy lips, his hands grasping onto Tony’s shoulders. “I can’t help it, I just-I don’t know. I feel so useless.”

“You aren’t. Soon, you’ll be better and be with me out there. It’ll all be okay, promise.” As he spoke, Tony slowly began to trail soft kisses along Peter’s neck, his fingers trailing down between his legs until they were brushing along his plump rear, sliding between the cheeks. Soft gasps left Peter’s lips, his back arching as his hips moved back against calloused fingers. “How about I make you feel better, Peter?”

The younger male said nothing, simply whimpered as he nodded, fingers tangling into the comforter below him. With a quick kiss, Tony slid away to grab a small bottle of lube from the nightstand before taking his spot again, body hovering over Peter’s as if to hide him from the world. Slender, pale arms wrapped around Tony’s neck as if he were going to disappear if he let go, a slick finger probing at his rim. Gasps and moans filled the room quickly as Tony pushed his finger into him, slowly moving it around. Within a few moments (and two more fingers later), Peter was all but riding Tony’s fingers as he cried out, toes curling into the blankets. 

“T-Tony!! Please!!” The younger male begged, holding onto his building release. Tony knew he couldn’t last much longer and despite the fact he was enjoying all the little sounds Peter made, he pulled his hand back. 

Whining at how empty he suddenly was, Peter’s arms slid from around Tony as he sat up on his knees. 

“It’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Tony spoke softly, his words barely above a hushed whisper as he generously slicked up his aching erection. 

Biting his bottom lip, the mob boss slowly pushed past Peter’s loose muscles, taking a deep breath when he bottomed out to keep himself from cumming right then and there. Peter was a mess of creamy skin, sweat glistening in the soft remnants of sunlight, cheeks flushed red from sheer pleasure. Leaning back down, Tony pressed a gentle and caring kiss to Peter’s lips as his hips began to move, slow and gentle, but deep. 

It only took a handful of thrusts until Peter was crying out, cumming untouched between their bodies as he cried out Tony’s name. Feeling the younger male clench around him made Tony’s thrusts falter, becoming desperate as he chased his own orgasm. Peter’s name left his kiss bruised lips as he came moments later, pausing a moment before pulling out of him, flopping down to his side. 

“Stay.” Peter’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Tony almost didn’t hear him over the sound of his heavy breaths. Gently tangling their fingers together, the mobster couldn’t help a soft smile. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”


	16. Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finally heals up and gains most of his life back. Meanwhile, Tony struggles internally about revealing his secret in the basement to the younger boy. How will Peter react to the choice he’s about to be given?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I’m so sorry for taking forever to update. Thank you all so very much for the support and I hope y’all enjoy!!!

Over the next seven days, Peter finally regained his freedom. Tony stepped back, giving his younger lover access to the house once again. Jarvis checked on him every so often, but he was able to move around and he couldn’t be happier. Then, on day seven, Dr. Strange paid him a visit to check his healing progress. With a clean bill of health, he was allowed freedom of light physical activity. 

That night Tony came home to Peter on his eighth mile on the treadmill. They couldn’t spar and any weight lifting was just about restricted to his arms, but Peter made sure this was his escape. Tony let him tag along in meetings once again, letting the young man take to his side proudly, but he still refused to let him run deals yet. Not until he could fight. So, Peter took what he could and ran with it. 

While Peter trained and regained his strength and speed, Tony snuck off to his basement. Every other day he made a point to pay the men a visit, ending with them bloodied and battered. Then Steve would come in and bandage them, tend to them, and feed them. Kept them alive despite their begging just to be killed. That was left for Peter. 

At the end of the second week, Peter was given an all clear. Be careful, don’t be reckless, but he could otherwise return to his daily life. The first thing he did was hit the gym as hard as he could and he didn’t stop until he couldn’t move. Until every muscle in his body screamed. Until Tony returned home from a relentless contract write up for an upcoming larger deal. 

“Peter?” Tony called as he walked into his home, finding the lack of greeting strange. Jarvis took the mobster’s suit jacket, folding it neatly over his arms. 

“Master Parker was heading to the gym last I saw him. Dr. Strange paid him a visit beforehand. It’s safe to assume the young man was given a good bill of health.” Jarvis shook his head as he spoke. “So he immediately dove right back into his training.” 

Tony sighed, a soft chuckle lacing his breath. “I’ll go get him.”

A playlist of Tony’s played over the speakers, muffled through the closed doors. Opening it and strutting in, he was less then surprised to find Peter on the ground, exhausted in front of a punching bag. 

“Peter.” He gave the younger male a gentle nudge at the thigh with his shoe. “Get up.”

His words and actions simply earned a soft groan, Peter scrunching up his face. 

“Come on. You need a shower and some food.” Tony tried coaxing him off the ground, giving him another gentle nudge. When Peter simply flailed his arms at his sides, Tony couldn’t help but laugh softly. 

“Of course. Your first day back to your normal life and you work yourself back to bed rest.” He chastised the young man before squatting down and scooping him into his arms. Holding Peter’s sweaty body close, Tony began back towards the house. “Take it easy next time, kid. At least make sure you can walk afterwards.”

Peter let out a soft groan of protest, burying his nose into Tony’s chest. “I have to get my strength back.” He whined softly, voice muffled by the expensive material of Tony’s shirt. 

“You will.” His voice trailed off at the end, mind flashing to the two men held in his basement. “In more ways than one..” Tony added the last part as an afterthought, taking Peter back to their room for some gentle loving and care. 

—-

Tony gave Peter three days. Three days to get back into the swing of things. Three days to work himself utterly exhausted at the gym. Three days of smaller deals. Three days before he shook his life up once again. 

Tony sat in his plush chair, Peter perched on the desk before him. The younger male gripped at the edge of the desk, keeping himself anchored down as he and Tony shared deep and needy kisses, full of tongue and teeth. Peter’s breath came in soft pants, his hair tousled from Tony’s hands running through it. Brown eyes glanced quickly down at his watch. 

11pm. 

“What’s wrong?” Peter repeated the question he had been asking since earlier that morning. “You’ve been distracted all day.” Slender hands took Tony’s face between them, thumbs brushing along his cheek bones. Tony refused to meet his eyes, gently chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knew he couldn’t keep pushing it off. 

Reaching up to place his hands over Peter’s, Tony moved them to his lap, thumbs drawing small circles along the back of his hands. 

“Peter.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “If you had the chance to find the people who hurt you, would you?” 

Peter stared at their hands on his lap, thinking. After a moment, he nodded. “Yea. I would.”

Tony finally looked up, letting their eyes lock onto one another’s. “What if I told you I had found them?”

“Where are they?” Peter tensed up, back straightening as his grip on Tony’s hands tightened. 

Tony didn’t respond this time. He simply stood up, tugging Peter off his desk. There were no more questions, no more words. Just a buzzing silence as Tony lead Peter down the steps, hand in hand. There was a falter in the mobsters steps as he stopped at the first floor, stopping at the door that lead to the basement. The place that had changed it all. 

“Peter. If I take you in here, if this happens-“ Tony took a deep breath, turning to look at Peter as he spoke. “-if this happens there’s no going back. Your old life is gone. I can’t promise you absolute safety. I can’t promise there won’t be bad times. I can’t promise that any of this will be easy. All I can promise is us. Together. No more secrets.”

Peter watched Tony as he spoke, his eyes slowly moving to the door behind him. It was always locked and after the first night he met Tony, Peter knew not to question about what was down there. Not that he had any desire to know, he had a good idea due to experience. He knew this was a door he wouldn’t be able to close again once he stepped inside. Biting his bottom lip, he hesitated before pressing a chaste kiss to Tony’s lips. 

“Us. As long as we’re in this together, Tony. Show me.” 

Releasing Peter’s hands, Tony turned, pulling a key out of his pocket. Unlocking the heavy, wooden door, he opened it and took a step back. 

“Steve’s at the bottom.”


End file.
